


A Galra of Competence, Distinction, and Size

by mongoose_bite



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Canonverse AU, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Reverse Sugar Daddy, Space Opera, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13996614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: Kolivan is one of the few galra escorts on Altea, and thus commands extremely high prices for his services. Nevertheless, accompanying Crown Princess Allura herself to a diplomatic ball might be above even his pay grade.King Alfor hopes a galra, any galra on his daughter's arm might ease the growing political tension before some important talks. Allura’s prepared to obey him, but she's determined to do so on her terms. She's not resigned to marrying the young Emperor Lotor just yet.Over the course of the evening plots will be foiled, enemies will be made, the finest clothing will be worn and, if she finds the time, Allura might just get what she paid for.





	A Galra of Competence, Distinction, and Size

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Galra Big Bang! Thank you [synstruck](http://synstruck.tumblr.com/) for betaing. Any mistakes are my own.
> 
> [Fusspot](https://thefusspot.tumblr.com/) has done some spectacular art. I was truly lucky to be paired with such an amazing artist. [Here's the link!](http://thefusspot.tumblr.com/post/171972049334)

 

When Rysse called, Kolivan always answered. He couldn’t afford not to. The nalaquodian styled herself as a matchmaker but in truth she was more of a pimp, even if she had facilitated a marriage or two in her time. Her reputation as a procurer of quality ensured that her clients were the most moneyed in all of Altea and Kolivan, like all her other ‘dear friends,’ knew how lucky he was to be on her books.

So when his communicator chimed the refrain that indicated Rysse was calling Kolivan interrupted his training without a second thought to answer it.

He was neither proud nor ashamed of his job although he’d come to it late in life, already a bit beat up, his hair silvered, when Rysse had swooped in with her eye for talent and suggested he could have a career ahead of him.

Kolivan had been sceptical; he’d hardly had a reputation as a great lover as a young galra, let alone as a middle-aged veteran, but several years later he had to admit Rysse knew her clients and they had no complaints. Rarely were they his own age; often they were spoiled young things looking for the discipline their parents didn’t give them, or somewhat older and appreciating of a mature approach.

Kolivan was comfortable with either. It was just a job, and frankly he'd done worse.

“Good afternoon, Rysse.”

“Let me in,” Rysse said, as Kolivan recognised the foyer of his own building behind her image with mild surprise. She’d never visited him before, and he felt a spike of concern at the sudden change of routine. Old instincts made him wary of the unexpected. Nevertheless, he unlocked the door without comment.

Rysse was small for a Nalaquodian and not as far as Kolivan could tell a particularly beautiful member of that species, but she had an intensity that drew the eye regardless, and had grown into features that would have looked too sharp, too harsh as a young woman. Certainly when she’d picked him up on the night they’d first met she hadn’t had to do much convincing. At the time he hadn’t even realised it was a job interview. He didn’t know if she still had clients herself, but it wouldn’t have surprised him if she did; she was an acquired taste, but so was he.

He opened the door and she strode inside, her familiar, strangely salty perfume filling his nostrils, her greenish skin gleaming with the most expensive cosmetics. She glanced around his apartment with interest, but there wasn’t much to see. Kolivan favoured a sparse aesthetic; galra didn’t go in for a great deal of decoration.

“I hope you don’t bring sweethearts back here,” Rysse said, looking unimpressed. Kolivan shook his head and offered her a drink.

She waved him off. “This isn’t a social visit, nor am I here to critique your appalling taste in furnishings. I have a client for you.”

It was odd for her to speak so bluntly; everyone was usually a dear friend or a new friend or some such euphemism. Kolivan found it annoying, but couldn’t fault her results. Now, however, he realised she was restless, and the various acts she put on had dropped. She was eyeing him off, as if she was second-guessing her decision to pick him.

“Just who is this client?” Kolivan asked. “They must be pretty important to get you all the way out here.”

“You have no idea-” she started and stopped herself. She looked up at him, her black eyes glistening and intense. “There can be no more important client. None. This must go perfectly. _You_ must be perfect. If we can get her on the books she is worth ten other clients in reputation alone. You must understand how important this is. In choosing you I am putting myself entirely in your hands.”

“I see.” Kolivan knew Rysse better than to let himself be swept away by such statements, but his curiosity was piqued as Rysse prowled his room, her arms wrapped around herself and her head-fins twitching. “So who is she?” he asked.

Rysse threw him a contemptuous look. “I’m disappointed you haven’t worked it out.” She turned and paced back to him. “Crown Princess Allura herself,” she told him softly. “And now you understand.”

Kolivan understood why Rysse was so agitated at least; Allura was probably the most famous and beloved person on the planet. Her father was greatly admired as well, of course, but she had the natural appeal of youth and an enviable freedom, for now. Kolivan himself had never given her a lot of thought; if she was like her father, Altea would be well-served and that was that.

“Isn’t she supposed to be engaged to the Emperor?” Kolivan asked.

Rysse shrugged. “Well, that’s just a rumour. But even if she is, she might be inclined to kick up her heels first.” She flicked her tongue out from between sharp, serrated teeth. “Although he is a tasty looking thing. But perhaps not her type, given the nature of her requirements.” She glanced at Kolivan again.

“She asked for a galra?”

“She asked for my most competent, distinguished, and largest galra. Easy to please, is our little princess,” Rysse added dryly.

None of this was making a lot of sense to Kolivan; clearly the public image the princess projected didn’t much match the woman herself. “Was she speaking euphemistically?” he asked with amusement.

Rysse shrugged. “Who knows? Either way, the answer is the same: you.” She frowned at him. “Show me your wardrobe. I’m not leaving any of this to chance.”

Kolivan showed her the way to his bedroom, still bemused. He was resigned to Rysse critiquing his outfits for the next half-varga but he didn’t mind too much; the opportunity to meet the princess herself was just too intriguing, even if it didn’t go further.

 

~~

Like most aliens on Altea, both Kolivan and Rysse lived on the city-rings that encircled the planet in the highest reaches of Altea’s atmosphere. Kolivan lived on the outer side, the skies above him forever splattered with stars regardless of the position of the sun in the sky. Rysse lived on the inner side, in an exclusive area above which hung Altea’s northern forests, the great greenish-blue orb of the planet dominating the view.

The shadow of the ring itself was clearly visible on the planet below when Kolivan stepped out of the automatic vehicle, which smoothly rose off the ground and zoomed off to retrieve another passenger as soon as he’d alighted. It wasn't lost on him that with Voltron out of commission the city rings also served as Altea's first line of defence, as they were capable of generating a particle barrier big enough to protect the whole planet. Those who lived on the outside would be the first in the line of fire, at least until they found a new Black Paladin.

A morbid thought. He shouldn't have watched the news. He had more important things to focus on.

Allura had asked for a galra, and Rysse had made sure she got one. Kolivan was dressed in a traditional galra outfit that he normally wouldn't have worn on Altea, a long tunic belted at his waist, formal trousers and boots. The cloth was thick and heavy, and subtly patterned in dark grey and white. Despite the lack of class markings Rysse had declared he looked formidable.

He had his blade tucked into his belt against his hip, and he rather reluctantly admitted to himself that he'd missed wearing it. Old habits died hard.

Kolivan pressed the buzzer on Rysse's front door exactly when she’d requested he do so, and a few moments later she answered it herself. She welcomed him happily, exclaiming as if his presence was a pleasant surprise. Her tone would carry into her parlour, even if her words didn't.

Kolivan stood on her polished mother-of-pearl floor while Rysse circled him appraisingly before giving him a short nod.

“She's nerved herself up to be here,” Rysse said quietly. “I haven't had much luck getting her to relax, but that's your job.” She showed her teeth. “Introduction from me, seduction from you. I anticipate your best efforts.”

“You can’t expect me to have her bent over a table in ten doboshes,” Kolivan said dryly.

“I expect you to try. Besides,” she smirked. “You’d be surprised. When these privileged beauties let loose, they really let loose.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her smile faded. “This is for your benefit too, Kolivan. If the galra situation gets worse, she will be able to protect you when I can’t.”

Kolivan took a deep breath. Surely it wouldn't get that bad. He didn't have time to consider it now; Rysse was already preceding him into her parlour, and it was time to get to work.

Rysse organised these meetings so carefully Kolivan almost believed she did it for the love and drama of it and not the serious fees she charged. Her parlour was opulent, a skylight to the planet above casting a bluish glow dispelled only in pools of light thrown by various lamps placed to encourage guests to sit close and talk quietly in the carefully cultivated atmosphere of intimacy. She didn't like rugs or carpets, but the hard surfaces of the room were softened by various exotic plants growing in niches in the walls and the air was always fresh and fragrant despite the distance from a natural biosphere. The furniture was mismatched but carefully chosen, low and comfortable, and the table always held a selection of expensive little delicacies chosen to appeal to the species of the client.

Some clients were eager, waiting on their feet, while others preferred the pretence that they were just coincidentally meeting in Rysse’s parlour and greeted him with pretend disinterest and veiled covetousness. Some were shy and some did their best to look right through his clothes the moment he stepped into the room.

“Your Highness,” Rysse called, her floaty garments following her every move as she gracefully ushered Kolivan into the room. “I’d love you to meet my dear friend, Kolivan. He’s.” Rysse glanced at him and decided against the sales pitch. “Well, I hope you’ll get along marvellously.” She stepped to the side then, to busy herself making Kolivan a drink, and to give him space to make his own impression, although he was quite sure she wouldn't miss so much as a blink from either of them.

The princess was seated on one of Rysse’s large chairs, but only taking up about half of it. She was dressed conservatively, almost formally, in a long skirt and tailored jacket in subdued colours. She had most of her hair pinned up, only a couple of errant curls brushing her cheeks, and a hat was sitting on the table near her cup.

She wasn’t exactly in disguise, but it was clear she hadn’t wanted to draw attention to herself. She had her hands in her lap, her posture rigid. Rysse would have tried to set her at ease, but clearly it hadn’t worked. Despite this, she still struck Kolivan as beautiful, like a wild creature about to take flight at the first sign of danger.

It was up to him then.

Kolivan crossed the room quietly, his boots whispering on the floor. His only guide was the princess's own words; competence, distinction and size, and thus he didn't greet her with a smile or even a look of appraisal, instead maintaining a military bearing and a reserve that came more naturally to him anyway.

As expected from someone as well-trained as royalty, the princess didn’t give much away, but her eyes were wide and in the low light almost luminous as she watched him approach. She had to crane her neck to look at him properly when he stepped into the light, and he watched her throat move as she swallowed.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, fluid and not entirely deferential, and then stood at ease. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“Yes, thank you. Likewise.” She sounded less certain than she had on TV. Younger. He could tell she was out of her depth now in a way she was not in front of a crowd of thousands. He'd been right not to take an aggressive approach.

“Didn’t I tell you he was handsome?” Rysse purred, as Kolivan allowed himself to be ushered into a chair and served a drink.

“Yes.” She smiled at him, and Kolivan smiled back, trying to reassure her. “Yes, I- I don’t know many galra personally.”

“Now’s your chance,” Kolivan said, meeting her eyes. “I’m an open book, Your Highness.” He spread his hands and let his knees fall open slightly as well, a wordless invitation. She looked a bit startled, which was kind of cute and he looked forward to flustering her further. This might even end up being fun, he thought.

“You don't need to be so formal,” she said, which was a good sign.

“Allura,” he said, and watched her recoil slightly. Too much. “Princess Allura,” he amended, and she smiled. He was gratified that she’d not taken her eyes off him once so far.

There was a snarl from a nearby room followed by a thumping sound and Rysse exclaimed and got to her feet. “Please excuse me, my dear friends. My little darlings are fighting again; they just need a bit of attention. Don’t mind me. Help yourselves to whatever your hearts desire,” she said, as she hurried out to quieten the noise.

Kolivan still didn’t know how she managed to get them to do that on cue.

“What are her little darlings?” Allura asked, watching her go with a curious look.

“Nalaquodian vent slugs,” Kolivan replied. “Ask her for pictures if you don’t believe me. She has thousands.”

“Thousands of pictures or thousands of slugs?” Allura asked.

Kolivan smiled almost despite himself. The princess was proving herself easy to like. “Both for all I know. I can't tell one slug from another.”

She smiled in response and relaxed slightly as she reached for her cup. “I think I’ll pass on that.”

He had his own drink but ignored it, leaning back in his chair. It wouldn’t do to crowd her. He let the silence stretch on for a few moments, entirely at ease, letting her look at him over the rim of her cup.

He spoke before it started to get awkward. “Was there something you wanted to ask me, Princess?”

“Yes.” Suddenly she was all business, leaning forward in her chair and setting her drink aside with a frown. “I asked Rysse to find someone, well, capable. And you certainly look capable of some things.” Her gaze flicked down, probably to the blade at his hip, but Kolivan smirked when she raised her eyes again and she paused, momentarily disconcerted. “But I need to know specifics. Can you dance? Can you hold polite conversation?” She seemed to be recalling a memorised list. “Can you dress- well, I can arrange that. Hors d'oeuvres? No never mind that either.”

“Sounds like you have something specific in mind for us,” Kolivan said.

“I need a date,” Allura said. “For an important diplomatic ball.”

“The one for the talks?” Kolivan asked. Quiznak. The talks had been all over the news and they hadn’t even started yet. Not only would King Alfor be there but so would the other paladins, Emperor Lotor himself, and who knew who else. Allura's request was starting to make a lot more sense.

She nodded, the little gems hanging from her earlobes winking as she moved her head. “A ball first to get everyone in a good mood, and then talks.”

“And the size?” he asked.

“What?”

“You asked Rysse for someone competent, distinguished and large.” Normally he would never talk so bluntly to a client, but she'd started it and it looked like this wasn't going to be the sort of job that was handled in private anyway. She didn't want a fuck, she wanted something far more complicated, and something he wasn't sure he was prepared to do. The Emperor himself would be there.

“Oh.” She flushed slightly. “Well, it just seemed appropriate. I'm not afraid of galra,” she said, meeting his eyes with a fierce look. “I don't want anyone to think I am.” She paused, and he could see her deciding how much she wanted to tell him. “I don't trust you either,” she admitted. “But my father thinks a public occasion with a galra on my arm might reassure everyone, alteans and galra alike, that we can get on. If I’m going to have one escort me I want them to be suitable in all respects.”

“I can't imagine this was what he had in mind,” Kolivan pointed out.

“No. Half the galaxy seems to be waiting for me to marry the Emperor.” She looked troubled for a moment and then deliberately smoothed out her expression and smiled. “But I'm not ready for that just yet. I'm sure he's too busy to worry about it either.”

“Even so.” Kolivan was quite sure he didn’t want to do this. It felt like a very bad idea to him, regardless of the fee. “He’s not the only option.”

“Every option comes with a political advantages and costs that I’m not privy to. If I chose badly it could embarrass the Emperor or my father, but I’ve no confidence in my ability to choose well without information.” She shrugged. “This is all purely for appearances anyway, so I shall choose on that basis alone. You look the part, and I’m paying you to do and act as I prefer you to. I think it’s rather clever of me,” she lied, laughing a little. She looked certain of herself now, but Kolivan remembered the look she’d given him when he’d first entered the room.

She’s just a piece on the board in this, Kolivan thought. Without any real power of her own just yet she’s to be moved around and bargained with, and she’s smart enough to know it. The vast galra fleet hangs in Altea’s system, hangs over all of us. None of this is her fault in the slightest, but people will be looking to her to help resolve it. If a marriage between the royal houses would give them peace of mind, what would they care for her personal feelings on the matter?

“I’ll do it,” he said, his mind made up. He knew deep in his heart it was because he wanted to help. Not just her, but his own people, and if this could somehow make things easier then how could he refuse? There was no reason to expect anyone would know who he was, after all. And even if they did, he had nothing left to lose. “I would be glad to. There can be no higher honour than to accompany the Crown Princess of Altea.”

“Well, I appreciate that. The question is, can you handle it? I know nothing about you, only what Rysse has told me and frankly I don’t believe all of it.”

“I have had some formal training,” Kolivan said. “All galra expected to rise above a certain class are trained so, and I acquitted myself adequately. Also,” he smiled. “I’ve been circulating through Altea’s more exclusive parlours and visiting rooms for several years now and so far no one has found fault with my manners.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he guessed she was looking at the scar across his eye, and at him in general with renewed interest as she wondered what exactly his background was. He could see her drawing breath to ask the obvious question; what he was doing in Rysse’s parlour and charging by the night for his company, and he forestalled it by getting to his feet.

He bowed deeply, this time extending his hand. “Allow me to prove it to you, Princess. May I have this dance?”

She glanced around. “There’s no- yes of course I’d be delighted.” She placed her hand in his and got to her feet. Like most alteans the top of her head wasn't anywhere near his collarbone.

He ushered her away from the furniture, and she moved lightly, settling her hand on his shoulder with a practised air, glancing at his face and then away again as he counted them in. Her hand was cool and slender, no claws, her nails polished, and she rested it across his palm rather than trying to hold his hand.

She was a far better dancer than he was, but he wasn’t trying to prove otherwise. All he needed to do was prove he could keep up and wouldn’t embarrass her. He guided her around the room, her skirt occasionally brushing against him as she moved, her shoes tapping on Rysse’s hard floor. She danced almost as an afterthought, a faint frown on her face, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“You know,  you’re really good,” she said, after a while. “You’re making this not awkward somehow, despite the fact that this is objectively _really_ awkward.” She stepped under his arm and spun around his hand before stepping back in again.

“Thank you.” He didn’t say it was all part of the job. “I’d rather you enjoyed my company than not.”

Movement caught his eye and he glanced over to see Rysse smiling approvingly from the doorway before drifting out of sight again. She probably had the wrong idea, although if the evening went well Kolivan supposed the princess might employ him again.

“What are we to be to each other?” he asked. “Friends? Lovers? A near-stranger you enchanted and carried off to your castle?”

“Well, let’s not tell them I’m paying you to be there,” Allura said. “Friends will be fine. No one expects a date to a diplomatic ball to mean anything other than diplomacy. Father said any galra would do, so he can’t complain either.”

“Princess.” Kolivan brought them to a stop, and released her. “A galra in my profession is, by definition, casteless. Everyone will know I am casteless by my clothes, even if they don’t know the reason for it.” He felt obliged to warn her; large and impressive he might be, but his social standing among other galra would be nil.

Allura looked up at him. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

He shrugged. “It’s something you should consider.”

“Fine,” she said. “Actually, more than fine. Good. I’m tired of pretending not to dislike the way galra treat each other. I’ve no reason to think you’re lesser than any other galra I’ve met, and some social ranking because of your job isn’t going to change that.”

She certainly hadn’t met many galra if she was talking like that, she must have read his ambivalent expression because she backtracked slightly.

“I apologise, it’s just, the way my father spoke about Zarkon-”

“You will not find me defending the late emperor,” Kolivan said. “Maybe his son will be more flexible in his thinking.”

“It’s possible,” Allura said. “He’s never been anything but nice to me at least, but that means very little.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You will be a good test for him.”

“I too would like to know whose hands my people are in,” Kolivan said.

“Then we have a deal.”

For better or worse, Kolivan was going to the ball.

 

~~

An amount of money far in excess of Kolivan’s fee for a single night was deposited hours later into his account, and at least part of the discrepancy in price was explained when two altean tailors showed up at his door the next day to take his measurements.

After they’d gone Kolivan turned his apartment over carefully and unearthed two bugs. He considered them for some time before leaving them where they were; it wasn’t an unexpected price to pay for mixing in such exalted circles and he had nothing to hide that the bugs might reveal.

Nevertheless, it was a timely reminder that the upcoming ball wasn’t an event to take lightly, and he found himself falling back into old habits, checking for surveillance when he went shopping and if his apartment had remained unoccupied while he was gone. He hadn’t missed this low-level paranoia, and as much as Rysse hoped the princess would turn into a regular customer, Kolivan wasn’t so enthusiastic.

Then again, he got more dirty looks on the street nowadays. It was just like the old times, back before the Paladins, before Voltron, and before Zarkon proved as a young and untested emperor that he was capable of creating peace in a galaxy long scarred by war.

Kolivan watched the news, the back-and-forth as various experts and non-experts tried to answer one deceptively simple question; with their home planet reduced to rubble, where should the galra go?

Where did it all go wrong, Kolivan wondered.

 

~~

The suit was like nothing Kolivan had ever worn before. It wasn’t exactly altean or galran style, but borrowed from both. It consisted of a long coat that hugged his torso, held closed at the front with a row of dark metal clasps. The cuffs and collar were embroidered, and the tail was cut away so his belt and blade were displayed correctly. The altean tailors had measured the weapon, the blade only as long as Kolivan’s hand, and declared it within the limits required of ceremonial weapons. Thus, he would be allowed to keep it.

He didn’t like how relieved he was.

Trousers, shirt, gloves and shoes were also in the large box that arrived the day before the ball, and Kolivan tried them all on but unsurprisingly they fitted perfectly. He looked at himself in the mirror and wondered how much input the princess had in all of this. Had she chosen the dark blue to compliment his colouring, or the jewels on the cuff-links to match her eyes?

Maybe he’d ask her. He was feeling more confident; the suit looked very good, and he knew he would as well.

The ball was to take place on the surface of Altea itself, in one of  the larger cities that wrapped itself over and under and around a large river, embracing it like a lover before the waterway slipped free of its entangling, entreating bridges and tunnels and flowed out into a vast freshwater lake.

Kolivan saw all of this through the windows of the shuttle the princess had sent to fetch him as it descended towards the surface. There was no reason why he couldn’t visit the surface more often, but he’d never felt entirely at home there; it was nothing like Daibazaal, and he'd stood out among the mostly-altean crowds, even before the death of the old emperor.

The ball was to take place in one of the older of the altean royal castles overlooking the city, and many of the buildings were bedecked with lights and decorations to welcome the various important guests.

There were also a lot of guns.

Kolivan saw plenty of ordinary alteans on the streets to gawk, but they were almost outnumbered by the altean security drones and altean soldiers, who stood calmly on most street corners, looking decorative and attentive and politely lethal.

Several alien ships hovered in the skies above the town, but as far as Kolivan could see Emperor Lotor’s royal battle-cruiser was not yet among them.

While various other functionaries were obliged to wait to be scanned and identified, Kolivan was whisked away to the castle directly, and his shuttle alighted on the roof next to an array of small altean ships.

He was a bit disappointed the Red Lion wasn’t among them; he’d never actually seen any of the Lions or Voltron itself in person.

He was met by a middle-aged altean with red hair who introduced himself as Coran and didn’t exactly explain what his rank was. Spymaster, Kolivan guessed, wanting get a look at the latest Unknown Quantity in person. He was very friendly, prattling on about the preparations for the ball and complementing Kolivan on his outfit.

“Although I imagine the princess had a hand in that, eh?”

“Does she often pick out clothes for people?” Kolivan asked.

“Well, no. But she’s never brought a date before either. First time for everything.”

Kolivan was quite sure this Coran would know what his profession was. It was perfectly legal on Altea, after all, and Kolivan paid his taxes like any other resident. What Coran actually thought of the princess hiring him Kolivan had no idea.

Coran led him to a waiting room with a view over the plaza in front of the palace and left him there, declaring he had a great many things to see to.

“I’ll inform the princess that you’ve arrived,” he said as he swept out.

Kolivan nodded politely and turned with his hands clasped behind his back to survey the view from the window. The spires of the city were alight in shades of gold and pale green, and above them one of the city-rings bisected the sky; a swathe of gleaming metal still catching the last of the evening sun. The palace was on a rise that overlooked the city, and Kolivan caught a glimpse of the lake beyond it, dark and still. In the plaza below a little convoy of vehicles was arriving, but he was too far away to guess as to who they belonged to.

He never expected to see anything like this in his lifetime, and certainly not from this perspective and he drank it all in with interest and a certain amount of foreboding as well.

I am very alone here, he thought, and then immediately reprimanded himself; I am very alone everywhere, it was just more obvious here among the dazzling decor of the past altean monarchs.

Soft footsteps alerted him to someone’s approach and he turned away from the window as Princess Allura swept into the room and he wouldn’t have admitted it, but his breath caught at the sight. Like him she was wearing dark blue, but it faded at her wrists and ankles to a glittery, foamy froth of cloth the same colour as he was. Her dress hugged her torso, her bare shoulders only glimpsed beneath a cloak of burgundy and black embroidered with silver thread, and when she stepped forward he glimpsed her knee just for a moment through some subtle alchemy of folds and slits in the skirt.

Kolivan was dazzled. She had jewels at her ears and throat, and her great mane of white hair had been slightly tamed with complicated braids and metal lace strung with crystals that must have taken quite some time to style. He realised he was staring at about the same time he realised she hadn’t noticed his lapse in manners because she was doing the same.

She’d strode in quite confidently but as she crossed the room her pace slowed to a drift as she looked him up and down.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing low. “You look magnificent.”

She didn’t appear to notice the compliment, but he supposed she got a lot of them. She raised her hand as if to touch his biceps and then evidently changed her mind, her hand hovering over his chest for a few moments before she settled on brushing her fingers across one of the metal clasps.

Rysse had told Kolivan not to give up on seduction, but until this moment he’d rather doubted it would be welcome. Now he wasn’t so sure; she looked a bit mesmerised. She might have convinced herself he was the logical choice, but he suspected her original request might have indicated a preference more honestly than she was prepared to admit.

So he caught her hand, held it gently in his own and bent over it as if there was nothing strange about the greeting.

“We match,” he said. He still couldn’t get over the fact that she was wearing his colours, and not the colours of a uniform or flag, but the colour of his own fur. It was a new and pleasing concept.

“I thought it would be appropriate,” she said, visibly collecting herself and he released her hand. “You look very good in it. I’d hoped you’d like it.”

“I do, very much. Thank you, Princess.”

“We still have some time before we’re due to make an entrance,” she said, moving over to join him at the window. He caught a hint of her perfume as she moved, something floral and slightly spicy; not quite what he’d been expecting.

“Is there anything specific I need to do?”

She shook her head. “You have no official position.” She smiled slightly. “Purely decorative.”

“I could be more than decorative if you wanted me to be,” he pointed out, and while her eyebrows rose a little she didn’t seem displeased. “I’m paid by the night, not by the act.”

“Hush,” she said, trying not to smile. “Coran’s already asked me what I’m thinking, paying for a date.”

“What did you tell him?” He was genuinely curious.

“That it was none of his business. I didn’t know what else to say.” She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking myself. This isn’t the time for childish stunts.”

“I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t regret this, Princess,” Kolivan said solemnly.

Her mouth twisted wryly for a moment. “You know, of all the guests, you’re probably the one I can trust the most. At least I know your motive for being here.”

“It’s not purely financial.” Kolivan turned his back on the view and leaned against the window, folding his arms. “I’ll confess I’m quite looking forward to being on your arm. I expect to be the envy of half the galaxy at least.”

“And the other half?” Allura asked.

Kolivan grinned, letting her get a glimpse of his fangs. “Why, they’ll be envying you.”

Allura looked at him, perhaps trying to work out how serious he was, her forehead wrinkling slightly. “May I ask something?”

“Of course.”

“Why are paid companions casteless among the galra? There’s no shame in it on Altea. It’s not something that was mentioned in the primers on galra culture I’ve been studying recently either.”

“Friendship, intimacy, sex, whatever it is we’re selling, is an act of trust, of letting one’s guard down. Galra don’t trust easily.” She was nodding at that; it must have been in her primer. “There are a lot of cultural mores about giving and earning trust among the galra. To sell that level of trust is to indicate you do not value it, an insult to both yourself and others, or you have no means of defending yourself. To be that weak is to give up all claim of social status. Although, by that logic, professional doms shouldn't be casteless.”

“Doms? What are they?”

“You need to study a wider range of primers, Princess.” He tilted his head, regarding her thoughtfully. “You might like it. Doms get asked to put their partners on their knees, order them about, take liberties, that sort of thing.”

“Well who wouldn’t like that?” Allura asked quietly, her gaze firmly fixed on the plaza below.

“Who indeed.”

“I can’t believe we’re discussing this,” she muttered. She took a deep breath, dismissing the subject for now. “Still, these events are usually very boring, if they’re going well. You might make it a bit more fun.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“You need only ask, Princess.”

She quirked her lips but didn't answer him directly. “We should get going soon. The guests have started to arrive.”

He offered her his arm and she looped hers through it. From somewhere within the castle, Kolivan could hear music start playing; it was time to go and face it.

 

~~

Kolivan escorted Allura through the royal apartment and into an elevator that took them down into the bowels of the palace. The Princess made polite small talk about fond childhood memories exploring the palace and a bit on its illustrious history.

“Do you spend much time in the Castle of Lions?” Kolivan asked, a topic he was far more interested in.

Her face lit up for a moment and then a look of disappointment crossed her features. “Not as much as I’d like. It’s not meant to be a primary residence; it’s more…” she trailed off.

“A warship,” Kolivan suggested.

“A flagship,” she corrected him. “We bring peace, not war. Or we try to.”

The doors were opening, a liveried footman there to greet them, and they could talk no more.

Kolivan withdrew into himself as he often did when he was working, putting up whatever act was required of him, watching from somewhere behind his eyes with the requisite detachment. He didn’t want to be here, but you’d never guess it. He kept perfect pace with Allura, although he let her subtly steer him in the right direction as they made their way towards the source of the music and the hubbub of conversation.

They walked down a carpeted corridor, and two more footmen opened the double doors ahead of them as someone Kolivan guessed was Coran announced them clearly over the swirl of conversation.

“Her Royal Highness Princess Allura of Altea, and Kolivan.” Not even Kolivan of Daibazaal, or Kolivan of the galra, the sudden silence after his name seemed very loud despite the noise. He felt like he was walking into the maw of a vast beast, and he resisted the urge to check his blade was still at his hip.

He carried on, his gaze sweeping the room but not really seeing it as several hundred heads turn to look at them. There was no arriving inconspicuously with the princess. He felt Allura squeeze his arm slightly, but whether she was reassuring him or reassuring herself he couldn’t tell.

He hoped Allura was enjoying her moment; the looks of surprise, the double-takes, and the no doubt furious wracking of brains trying to work out who he was were exactly what she’d paid him for. She was greeted with smiles and gestures of respect appropriate to the species giving them and Allura reflected their adulation back at them, beaming gently. Kolivan didn’t smile, keeping himself to non-committal nods. The only reason they had any interest in him was her, after all.

Allura expertly steered them through the crowd, greeting everyone like old friends, using each new stranger to propel them further, never losing the momentum of her entrance. Kolivan could only watch in awe at her skill.

The ballroom itself was like the rest of the palace, huge and decorative and heavily gilded. The roof was clear crystal, which on most nights would have displayed a delightful view of the night sky and city ring, but tonight only reminded everyone how many alien ships were hovering above Altea, and why they were all here.

The guests were of a startling variety of races, although alteans and galra were predominant. Everyone was making an effort to be polite and friendly, and although the atmosphere was pleasant overall Kolivan could sense how brittle it was. He suspected Allura’s stunt was a welcome distraction from the business at hand.

Allura had a destination in mind, and was making her way steadily towards the front doors to where her father was greeting the newest arrivals. The crowd parted to make way for her as she approached King Alfor and the latest crop of dignitaries, and she unthreaded her arm from Kolivan’s to greet them at her father's side.

Next it was Kolivan’s turn and he bowed to the King who regarded him pleasantly enough and welcomed him to the ball. Having seen how Allura handled herself he wasn’t in the least bit surprised to have no idea what King Alfor was thinking. Kolivan met his gaze confidently; he had great respect for the altean ruler.

“I’m very glad you could join us,” Alfor said, as if this wasn’t the first time he’d laid eyes on him.

“It’s an honour, Your Majesty.”

“Has the Emperor arrived yet?” Allura asked.

King Alfor shook his head. “I’m not surprised. His father wasn’t particularly punctual either.” He sounded jovial about it, entirely at ease, and Allura smiled fondly as if he were talking about a favourite uncle. It occurred to Kolivan that she might well have seen Zarkon as such, as bizarre as the concept was to him.

There wasn’t a flicker of concern from either of them. These royals were made of pure luxite, Kolivan thought; absolutely unbreakable.

“Many people have been asking after you, my dear,” Alfor said.

“Better not disappoint them then. We’ll talk to you later, Father.”

Kolivan bowed and braced himself once more to follow Allura into the crowd. It was going to be a long evening.

Kolivan was reasonably adept at small talk, but conversations with these people felt more like a battle of wits. Everyone was trying to work out who he was, and he amused himself by trying to decide who knew enough about galra class markers to realise he was casteless. The trays of food circulating through the crowd were mouthwatering, but Kolivan didn’t eat much and drank even less.

“What do you think,” a dalterion of what he thought was a high priestly rank asked him. “Of the galra situation? Surely we could all do with a new perspective.”

“I don’t know,” Kolivan said. “I’m only grateful that wiser heads than mine are working on it. Perhaps we’ll have a solution very soon.”

He could tell the priest thought his response was passable but disappointingly bland. Fine by him; he wasn’t here to start a discussion. There would be more than enough talk over the next few days.

“How are you holding up?” Allura asked, appearing at his elbow again.

“I should be asking you that.”

Allura shrugged. “I could do this in my sleep. Everyone wants to know where I dug you up from. The galra especially.” She sounded quite satisfied.

“What did you say?”

“That you’re a friend of a friend.”

“Speaking of galra-”

“Let’s dance,” she said, interrupting him. Not a lot of people were dancing, but the moment Allura took to the floor several other pairs and one group of three followed and the band struck up something a bit jauntier. “This party needs cheering up,” she said, a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It seemed to work, at least for a little while. Kolivan had been practising in the days leading up to the ball and he was glad of it. Rather than concentrating on the dance he could enjoy a brief respite from the attentions of the crowd, and the rare pleasure of having the most beautiful person in the room in his arms. He didn't try to talk to Allura further, and she didn't start a conversation either, the pair of them enjoying an oddly companionable silence, Allura's gleaming cloak and hair swinging out behind her when she spun around his hand.

When the music paused they were both approached by other dancers, although Kolivan suspected in his case it was only a courtesy, and he found himself partnered with guests of various species. He didn’t tread on any appendages at least, but he was quite relieved when Allura asked him to fetch her a drink and he could quit the dance floor for the buffet.

The crowd seemed more restless and ill-tempered than before, and he noticed the galra were starting to cluster in small groups, talking among themselves. None of them tried to speak to him, however. For the most part he seemed to baffle them and they distrusted his presence, as if he were some sort of elaborate trap they were careful not to step into.

That suited him. He’d hardly spoken to any galra since he’d left Daibazaal, and he had no desire to talk to any now. He felt almost guilty that he'd managed to leave and establish himself on a different planet years before everyone else was evacuated, but it had hardly been his choice.

Allura detached herself from her current conversation when Kolivan approached her, a drink in each hand. She accepted her glass graciously and sipped the contents, barely getting her lips wet. Her gaze was focused beyond the crowds, at the front doors, and her smile was gone.

“You look like you want several more of those,” Kolivan said.

She smiled wanly, “Cut me off if I make a run for the drinks table then, would you?”

Kolivan looked up through the crystal roof. “I still don't see his ship,” he said softly.

“You won't,” Allura said. “Not until the very last moment at least.” Her lips thinned in annoyance. “This is a power play.”

“Making everyone wait?”

“More than that. Everyone's aware there are a lot of important people gathered here in one spot, and the Emperor commands the largest and most advanced fleet in the galaxy which is currently in our system.”

“He wouldn't dare.”

She shook her head. “Probably not. But the idea of it, the threat, it hangs over all of us. And the fact that he's chosen to make us wait, to remind us of what he _could_ do, when we are trying so hard to find a solution-” She snapped her mouth shut, her free hand curling into a fist for a moment.

Kolivan felt strangely honoured that she had shared her fear and frustration with him, especially when she worked hard to hide it from all others. The moment had passed so quickly she now appeared just as calm as ever, sipping her drink.

“Don't marry him,” Kolivan said suddenly. Allura blinked at him in surprise, and he suspected he'd spoken out of turn and perhaps a bit too earnestly, but it was too late now. The words had slipped out. “You could do a lot better,” he added, more lightly.

She cracked a smile when she realised he was teasing. “Are you sure you're not just jealous?”

“Of course I am. Who wouldn't be?”

She giggled. “Thank you. And you're probably right.” Her smile faded, and she swirled her drink around, frowning at it. “Kolivan, do you blame my father for what happened to your planet?”

He wouldn't lie to her. “For destroying it? No. It was clear by that point there was no other choice; the rift would have swallowed it whole, destroying us and threatening the rest of the galaxy. For failing to stop the late Emperor and Empress before it got to that point? Yes. But he is hardly alone in bearing that responsibility, and I'm sure he tried, and I'm sure he regrets failing.”

As do we all, he added silently, thinking about all they'd lost, and how swiftly it had been taken from them.

She nudged his arm gently, bringing him back to the present. She looked up into his eyes, her own clear and bright. “Thank you. For being honest, and for being reassuring. I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories, but I had to know at least one galra doesn't blame us.”

“I'm sure I'm not the only one, Princess. We're not a monolith.”

She didn't look convinced, but he didn't entirely blame her. It was a point of pride to present a unified face to outsiders. Galra conducted their disagreements in private.

There was a ripple through the sullen and restive crowd, and Coran's voice rang out after being silent for quite some time.

“His Imperial Majesty Emperor Lotor of the Galra, Late of Daibazaal!”

The effect was instantaneous and electric. Kolivan himself couldn't help peering over the crowd towards the front doors and the entire room mimicked the gesture. The conversation suddenly swelled to a dull roar for a moment and then died down again, and the atmosphere of the room lightened considerably. The crowd wanted to applaud; he could feel it.

Most of the crowd, anyway. Allura narrowed her eyes. “Listen to it,” she said under her breath, anger evident in her tone. “The talks don't even start until tomorrow and it feels like we already owe him a favour just because he showed up. The more scared people are of him, the more he thinks he can get at the talks.”

Kolivan, even with his extra height, couldn't see the Emperor as the crowd surged forward to get a look at him. Allura stayed put and thus he did too.

Lotor was half-altean, and took after his mother in appearance; the galra would be waiting for him to prove himself not only one of them, but capable of leading. Kolivan wasn't without sympathy, even as he understood Allura's irritation.

“Change of plan,” Allura said. Kolivan watched in surprise as she tossed back the rest of her drink, and set the glass on a tray carried by one of the serving bots. “You're now my boyfriend. Kiss me,” she commanded.

Kolivan was startled by the spark of sheer delight that zipped through him at her words, as inappropriate as it might have been. She had planted herself firmly in front of him, her chin raised, her lips slightly pursed and her eyes dark and imperious. She looked delightful, and he was tempted just to reel her in and probably spark a diplomatic incident.

Second thoughts prevailed however, and he reached out and took one of her hands instead, abandoning the rest of his drink on a tray.

“Princess, I would be more than happy to oblige.” He bent his head slightly and watched her eyes widen. She wasn't entirely certain about this. “But I think it would reflect badly on your taste if your lover was unrefined enough to pounce on you in the middle of an important public event.” He forestalled her before she opened her mouth to object. “On the other hand, if he took advantage of the distracted crowd to sneak you off, I don't think anyone could blame him.”

Allura caught on instantly. “I certainly wouldn't,” she said, as she laced her fingers through Kolivan's. He really rather regretted wearing gloves.

Kolivan had already taken note of all the exits and so he  knew the series of large glass doors on one side of the room opened onto a balcony overlooking a fairly small walled garden and the city beyond. Allura was carefully not looking at him as he escorted her out, and he knew unless she showed a bit more enthusiasm he wouldn’t be kissing her.

Not that he didn’t have a few ideas about how he might encourage her.

No one appeared to pay much attention to them, the focus of the room still on the Emperor and the King, although Kolivan didn’t doubt they were noticed.

Kolivan clawed loose one of the ties that held the drapes framing the doorway back as they left the room. It would give them a couple of feet of shadows to retreat into, exactly what he would have done if her request had been genuine. The night air was cool and pleasant, and he breathed deeply, sampling the scent of the unfamiliar plants in the garden. It was a relief to be out here.

He released Allura’s hand and leant his forearms on the stone railing, even as he wished it was a foot or two higher.

“Elaborate,” he said.

“What?”

“You said the plan has changed, I want the details. Are you trying to make the Emperor jealous?”

“No!” Allura closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again. “I want him to be surprised. To not have everything go according to his plans, whatever they are. And I want- I don’t want to be available to him. Not tonight, not after what he did to scare us.”

“So this is for his benefit, no one else’s?”

“Well who else would benefit?” she asked defensively.

“The other guests.”

“Oh. Them. No I guess it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s just for tonight.”

“So we want him to see, but no one else?”

“I’m quite sure he’ll seek me out soon enough.”

“Does he want to marry  you?” Kolivan asked.

“I don’t think he cares either way to be honest. If he thinks it’ll be useful he will. When I talk to him I feel.” She shrugged. “I feel like he’s keeping his options open.”

You deserve far better than that, Kolivan thought, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Very well, Princess,” he said, straightening up. “I am yours to command.” She gazed up at him, jaw set and brow slightly furrowed. “But this is a ruse, nothing more. Princess, you don’t need to go through with anything you don’t want to. We can pretend.”

“Just get on with it!” she snapped. “He could be here any moment.”

Kolivan suspected they had more time than that; he was half a room away at least, but he bowed his head in acquiescence regardless.

Allura jumped slightly as he slid a hand around her back, under her cloak. His gloves were thin enough that he could feel the intricate embroidered patterns on her dress. She shuffled closer, stepping up to him, lifting her head again. With his free hand he gently brushed the back of his fingers against her hair, careful not to dislodge the jewellery in it.

She closed her eyes as he bent down to her, and he could see her throat move as she swallowed. He bypassed her mouth, as tempting as it was, and she shivered as he spoke into her ear.

“There’s no rush,” he murmured. “I know I’m going to enjoy this, but I’d rather you did as well.” And if he failed, well, they were close enough that it should serve her purposes. He took her hand again, and lifted it to his chest. “You can touch me, you know. You can do whatever you like.”

He felt her other hand creep around his waist and he smiled. Getting there. She’d opened her eyes, and he met her gaze boldly.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I’m not nervous.”

“Really? I am. I’ve never kissed a princess.” He wanted her to forget about the ball, forget about the Emperor, forget why they were even out here in the first place, and just focus on him.

“Well, I’ve never kissed a galra,” she said, her gaze had dropped to his mouth.

“Hmm.” He moved until his mouth almost grazed her temple. “Would you like to?”

“Yes.” _That_ was the kind of request he responded to, made with utter sincerity. Her hand was creeping up towards his collar and she was up on her toes slightly, head tilted and lips parted in anticipation.

He lowered his head again, and she swayed against him as he deliberately brushed the tip of his nose against hers. Her eyes flew open and she propped herself up a bit higher, her lower lip curling forward in a pout. She couldn’t reach him if he didn’t want her to, and he teased her for a few moments more, unable to help himself. You only got to kiss someone for the first time once, after all, and who could blame him for wanting to stay on that dizzying precipice for just a few tics more?

Eventually he relented, and slid a gloved finger along her jawline. She tilted her head at the touch and he tightened his grip on her slightly with his other arm, watching her eyes sliding closed again as he lowered his mouth to hers.

For real, this time.

He could feel her breath across his lips, her fingers curling against his suit as he brushed his lips against hers, just gently at first, hearing her sigh at the contact.

“Ah, excuse me.”

They jerked apart, and Kolivan’s surprise was completely unfeigned. He didn’t even try to hide his disappointment at being interrupted, his ears flattening and his eyes narrowing, and Allura’s dark skin flushed darker as they drew away from each other.

Kolivan was feeling distinctly unprepared to meet his emperor, and he really shouldn’t have been. That was what they’d been expecting, after all, and true to Allura’s prediction it was the monarch himself who stood in front of them, his uniform far more elaborate than Zarkon’s had ever been. He even had a little cape. His look of surprise was swiftly replaced with a slightly unnerving smile.

“I’m pleased to see the rumoured antipathy Princess Allura has for the galra is just a rumour,” he said.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Kolivan said, bowing deeply and pressing his fist to his chest, even as his instincts pushed him to get on one knee and genuflect further. Casteless or not, he was still a galra.

“Mm.” Emperor Lotor was eyeing him off like he couldn’t quite decide what puzzled him more; Kolivan’s obvious lack of class signifiers or his age, his gaze flicking from Kolivan’s face to his outfit and back again.

“Emperor Lotor,” Allura had regained her poise, or most of it at least. “It’s so marvellous to see you again. Allow me to present my, my date for this evening, Kolivan.”

“Must be quite a story there,” he murmured.

Allura laughed. “He’s a friend of a friend.”

“Well, I apologise for interrupting.” He inclined his head politely but Kolivan couldn’t help but feel he was slightly mocking. “But I need to speak with you for a moment, Princess. In private.”

Allura shot Kolivan an unreadable look and then nodded at Lotor. “Certainly. Would you get me a drink, Kolivan? Water, please.”

“I’ll have some of that altean stuff,” Lotor said. He didn’t even speak with any particular malice; to order around a casteless, or anyone of lower rank, would be second nature to him. Kolivan didn’t take it personally.

“Of course. Princess. Your Majesty.” He bowed again, because it couldn’t hurt anything, and he re-entered the ballroom to once more thread his way through the crowd in search of drinks.

 

~~

So that was the Emperor. He understood, instantly, Allura's ambivalence. He felt it himself, although for different reasons. He just didn't seem very galra-like.

Kolivan was on his way back when he saw the Emperor stalk away from the balcony, his expression so neutral Kolivan wondered if Allura had slapped him. He certainly didn’t seem particularly pleased by whatever had transpired between them. He didn’t even glance in Kolivan’s direction and was soon swallowed up by the crowd eager to talk to him.

Allura was still on the balcony, her arms folded as she glared out at the garden.

“Princess, are you all right?”

“There you are.” Her expression softened a little. “Thank you.” She accepted the glass of water, gulped it down, and then took the other drink as well.

“I take it it didn’t go well?” Kolivan asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She looked at the drink and then set it on the railing without touching it. “I’m sorry, I really can't tell you what he said. He was speaking in confidence, even if what he said was probably a load of Starallax elbow-fluff. Oh listen to me, I sound like Coran. Not a good sign.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead for a moment and took a deep breath. “Focus. Do _not_ vault the railing and flee.”

“That bad?” Kolivan asked.

“Scaring the crowd wasn’t enough, apparently,” she said sourly. “He wanted to scare me as well. Under the guise of being helpful of course.”

“What does he want?” Kolivan asked. “The galra need a home; surely finding that is in everyone’s interest. Why all of this?” He waved a hand. He wanted his emperor to get on with it, not mess about playing political games. He couldn't imagine what it must be like living in the galra refugee fleet; time was of the essence.

“Everyone is willing to welcome some galra, but the galra don’t want to be broken up and spread across the universe and no one wants to share their planet with all of them. There are too many. Alteans are scared that because my father ordered the destruction of Daibazaal _we_ will have to split Altea with them. Daibazaal was a world rich in rare natural resources; the Emperor wants just recompense for its loss. But it was his father’s fault to start with.” She looked at him, as if expecting he would object.

“More or less, Princess.”

She sighed. “We were at war for so long before my father and his friends forged a peace. _I_ don’t remember a time when the alteans and the galra weren’t friends, but plenty of other people do, and they remember how warlike the galra used to be. Already they speak of Zarkon as an aberration, that war is an inevitability, and by speaking like that they make it more likely.”

Kolivan himself remembered those days, when he was young and the universe was alight with laser fire and burning ships; it was the future he'd grown up preparing for, and when Zarkon had unexpectedly brought peace he'd even resented it slightly. The ignorance and arrogance of youth hadn't lasted long as the galra and their new allies had worked to heal the scars of war and Kolivan had done his part.

He'd loved Zarkon then, would have died for him without a second thought. And if Allura was right, it might now all come undone.

“Could Voltron keep the peace? Is not the Black Lion Lotor’s by right of succession?”

Allura narrowed her eyes. “It’s not that simple. Lotor _does_ want to pilot the Black Lion, but the Lion itself decides who pilots it. According to my father, the Black Paladin is the leader; he gave it to Zarkon because he was a greater warrior than my father.” She turned to him angrily. “Lotor is no military leader, and he has no right to the Black Lion. He’s had no more experience in real battle than I have!”

“You?” He looked at her and Allura snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks colouring. Well then. “Got you eye on it yourself?” He grinned at her.

Allura shook her head. “No. I’m not suitable. But neither is he.”

“How do you know? You might be surprised.”

“Because I tried,” she said coolly. “And nothing happened; I just felt foolish.” She glanced at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m impressed regardless,” Kolivan said. It must have taken real courage to approach the Black Lion, and he suspected she hadn't asked permission of her father first.

“Oh.” She looked a bit pleased. She really was something else, he thought. “Well,” she looked away from him. She still pretended to find the garden fascinating, but her expression was softer now. “That was, um, some good timing of yours, you know, earlier,” she said. “I was completely surprised when Lotor appeared.”

“It was no planning of mine, Princess,” Kolivan said. “If I'd known he was going to find us so soon I would have moved a bit faster.”

She glanced sharply at him, and it was too dark for him to tell if she was flushing. She's not used to being flirted with, he thought. Not like this, anyway. She tore her attention away from him and back to the ballroom. “We should get back; I’m sure everyone’s wondering where I got to. Now the Emperor’s here they'll be starting the official business of the evening.”

“Which is?” Kolivan asked, as she took his arm.

“Welcoming speeches,” she said, pulling a brief face before facing the crowd again, her smile perfectly in place.

 

~~

 

Once more they entered circulation although they were no longer the centre of attention, which suited Kolivan just fine. He wasn't sure if Allura wanted to keep up the pretence she'd so abruptly demanded, so he remained solicitous and close-by but didn't presume to touch her, as much as he would have liked to. He felt like he still had Allura's breath in his lungs, that the brush of her lip had left a scar across his own, burning.

It was very unprofessional of him, but if there was to be an exception to the unwritten rules, wouldn't it make sense that it would be her? He didn't feel too bad about it regardless. It wasn't like this was going to go anywhere, and he had enough of a romantic streak to be charmed by the idea of wanting what was unattainable.

Maybe the streak was masochistic rather than romantic.

The crowd gathered loosely down one end of the room under Coran's direction, all eyes fixed on a low platform. Coran then stepped aside for King Alfor to a round of genuinely enthusiastic applause. Allura and Kolivan had been ushered near the front, but Allura said she wasn't going to be speaking herself that evening and they remained in the crowd.

“My father always insists on speeches before the meal at official events,” Allura said, leaning up to speak to Kolivan as he bent down to hear her. “Hunger keeps everyone focused so they listen better and speak faster.”

“Wise,” Kolivan said, as King Alfor began his speech.

Alfor spoke hopefully, as of course he would, speaking of friendship and trials faced together. He spoke fondly of the late emperor, and the other paladins also came forward with similar sentiments. None of them mentioned the Black Lion directly, or what might become of Voltron in his absence. Kolivan listened intently, aware this was a rare opportunity for someone like him.

The Emperor stood with the other dignitaries waiting their turn and Kolivan watched him. He seemed quite at ease, but not particularly invested; he didn't react when his parents were mentioned.

When Alfor invited him to speak, however, Emperor Lotor's face brightened into a smile and he strode forward, regarding the crowd with benevolence.

“Friends,” he began. “I'm deeply honoured to be here with you this evening.”

He was still warming up when a footman approached Allura and whispered something in her ear. She glanced at Kolivan.

“Both of us?” she asked.

The footman nodded. Discreetly they made their way through the crowd, as much as was possible given Kolivan’s height and Allura’s generally eye-catching appearance. Politely no one paid them any mind, including the Emperor, who continued his speech without missing a beat or even looking in their direction.

“Coran wants to speak to us,” Allura said, when they were far enough away to talk. “Something must have come up, but he didn’t want to interrupt the speeches by informing my father.”

Kolivan had no sense of the layout of the castle and so he wasn’t clear where they were going but Allura knew the way, striding along with determination, her cloak billowing out behind her. Their destination was an anteroom as lavishly furnished as everywhere else, close enough to the ballroom that he could still hear, indistinctly, Lotor’s clear, ringing voice, although his words were lost.

He gave adequate speeches, Kolivan would give him that.

Coran was waiting for them, his hands clasped behind his back. Behind him stood an odd figure dressed in a dark uniform that Kolivan didn’t recognise and wearing a completely featureless mask; there wasn’t even eye holes.

“Princess, you need to hear this,” Coran said and Allura hurried towards him, Kolivan at her heels. Kolivan thought Coran’s expression was a bit odd, but even weirder was the small furry animal on his companion’s shoulder, its eyes gleaming as it stared at them. The fur on the back of Kolivan's neck stood up as his instincts told him something was very, very wrong.

Too late.

Too distracted, too out of his depth, too rusty, too old. Kolivan realised it was a trap a moment too late as the door was flung shut behind them. Kolivan turned as movement caught the corner of his eye, just in time to see two other masked and uniformed figures, one almost as tall as he was and somewhat broader and the other about Allura’s height, step out from either side the door and point guns at them.

“Coran!” Allura exclaimed. Kolivan looked over the shoulder as the eyeless figure waved its hand and the altean’s eyes glowed for a moment before he crumpled to the floor. Allura stepped forward to help him, and was brought to a halt by the weapons pointed at her.

The whole thing had taken less than five tics and Kolivan was impressed, even as he flexed his fingers impotently. He had his blade but it wouldn’t do him much good while Allura was so directly threatened.

Allura took a deep breath.

“I wouldn't try and raise the alarm, Your Highness.” The eyeless figure had a woman’s voice. The animal turned its head deliberately, surveying the room. “If you want to make sure the old man will be perfectly well when he wakes. If you want to make sure he wakes up at all.” She swung her blank face towards Kolivan. “What should we do with that one?”

“Let him go!” Allura ordered. “He’s just an ordinary citizen; he doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this. I'm the one you want.”

This didn’t please Kolivan much at all; if he was with her he might get a chance to help her get out of this, but he sensed his opinion wouldn't be welcome and kept his mouth shut.

“We’ll take him with us,” the shorter of the other two said. Kolivan had decided from the way they held themselves and their proportions that they were all female, and probably part-galra, which was strange in and of itself. “We can get rid of him later if we have to. Restrain them.”

Kolivan kept his expression entirely blank even as the air shimmered and yet a fourth figure appeared directly behind him, although his heart was sinking. They wrenched his arms back and Kolivan didn’t resist. He knew better than to try with a gun at his head and the status of a non-essential hostage. They snapped cuffs around his wrists and activated them, drawing his hands together behind his back.

That could be worse, at least.

“Let me go-” Allura struggled when they tried to do the same to her, until the eyeless one lifted her foot and placed it deliberately on the back of Coran’s neck.

“He doesn’t have to wake up,” she warned them, and Allura stilled and let her hands be bound.

She looked furious. “Lotor was right,” she said through gritted teeth. “He _warned_ me.”

“Shame you didn’t listen, then.” She prodded Allura between the shoulder blades and the princess stumbled forward slightly.

Kolivan wanted to ask her for details, but he kept his mouth shut. If you could keep even a scrap of information from the enemy, you should. Whoever they were, they were quiet and disciplined, he could tell that just from the way they held their guns and the way they moved around their captives; he wasn't unobserved even a moment, wasn't given the slightest chance to lash out or flee.

“Look at this titchy little thing.” The fourth one, long-limbed with a strangely shaped helmet, helped herself to Kolivan’s blade after making sure Allura was restrained, pulling it from the sheath on his belt and spinning it around her fingers. Kolivan felt his calm facade threaten to crack at the sight of his precious weapon in the hands of an enemy. He restrained himself, forced himself to breathe calmly even as he glared at her. He couldn’t see her eyes clearly through the faceplate on her helmet, but he got the impression she was watching him. “Aw,” she said when he didn’t do more than scowl at her. “I was hoping for a joke.”

“It’s ceremonial,” Allura said, pleaded. “You don't need to take him. He’s just a-”

“It’s all right, Princess,” Kolivan interrupted her. “I’d rather you not go through this alone.” He met Allura's worried gaze, willing her to understand he was not afraid.

“Well, that’s sweet,” the scout interrupted them. With a flick of her fingers Kolivan's blade disappeared somewhere on her person. “Okay Princess. We’re walking out of here and if you try anything the big guy dies, got it? Cause we'd rather not hurt you. Yet.”

“I understand,” Allura said through gritted teeth. She marched out, but when she passed Kolivan she shot him an incredibly guilty look. He winked at her, and she frowned.

Their captors led them quickly and quietly through the castle using servants' passages, their escape route clearly well-planned. The one with the ability to cloak herself went on ahead, and they occasionally stopped while some unseen obstacle was removed. They worked fairly well as a team, but Kolivan didn't get the impression that their commanding officer was with them. They were following someone else's script.

After a brief elevator ride they were escorted out onto the roof which was now almost full of parked spacecraft. After waiting for a drone patrol to go past, they hurried across to a generic looking cruiser and were hustled inside, Allura casting one despairing look at the castle over her shoulder.

“That was easy,” the big one said.

“We're not out of here yet.”

“How did you even get here? Who gave you clearance?” Allura demanded.

No one answered her. As soon as they were inside the ship the prisoners were pushed into a small bare room, still handcuffed, and the door was slammed shut and locked. At least they weren't separated; their captors probably hadn't planned for two of them.

 

~~

 

They stared at each other for a few moments as the sound of footsteps grew fainter. No guards on the door; no need for them.

“I’m so sorry,” Allura began, and then she stumbled as the ship started to move. Kolivan stepped up to her to break her fall, even with his hands still behind his back, but she kept her balance. “We should sit,” she said, looking alarmed. They couldn’t really protect themselves if their captors started throwing the ship around. They knelt carefully, Kolivan remaining close enough that he could brace himself against her if the flight started to get rough. It didn’t feel like they were moving fast, but he knew it was easy to be deceived when you couldn’t see out.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be leaving the atmosphere at least,” Kolivan said. “They’d want to strap you in for that.”

“This is all my fault!” Allura wailed, to Kolivan’s surprise. She slumped forward, resting her head against his chest. “Lotor warned me and I ignored him because of my _stupid_ pride. Stupid!” She banged her forehead gently against him.

“What exactly did Lotor say?”

“That the Blade of Marmora were going to try and kidnap me.”

“The _what_?” Kolivan couldn't hide his shock.

“Apparently they're a terrorist organisation. Galra who resented Zarkon’s bid for peace and blame my father for the destruction of Daibazaal. They think this is their chance to start a war again, and take Altea by force if necessary.” She sighed. “I thought it sounded made up and practically told him so.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it either,” Kolivan muttered.

“You don’t need to try and cheer me up,” she said, lifting her head and visibly pulling herself together. “I’m not afraid, and I will not let them use me to start another war. I'd rather die. I’m just so sorry you got caught up in all this. None of this has anything to do with you.”

“I’m not sorry,” Kolivan said truthfully. “And I will help you however I can, I promise.”

“Thank you, Kolivan,” she said. “You’ve been a big help already just being here. I’m glad I’m not alone.” Her gaze dropped slightly, as she examined his face.

He didn’t say anything, just watched her watching him and waited for her to decide what she wanted to do. He could force himself to keep calm in battle, and in some ways he'd been more relaxed in handcuffs than he had been at the ball, but the way she was looking at him, the faint warmth of her breath against his chin, he couldn't keep his heart-rate from spiking. Once she’d decided something, she didn’t hesitate; he’d learned that much about her already.

In the end she did hesitate, just a fraction, in between kneeling up to bring herself to his height, and pressing her mouth against his. Perhaps she was keeping her balance, or giving him the chance to turn away, or simply snatching a last breath. It didn't matter. He kissed her back, sliding his tongue across hers as she parted her lips for him, leaning into his space.

“I thought we might not get another chance,” she whispered, when she drew back, her lips brushing his as she spoke. “I wanted-”

He understood, and he kissed her again and he liked the sound that she made, somewhere between agreement and a whimper as she pressed herself against him, eyes drifting closed. He kissed her the way alteans liked it, slow and soft. They might have to entertain themselves for hours yet.

And it might be the last time he'd get to touch her.

No sooner had he thought this then the locks shot back with a hiss and the door slid open, revealing two of their captors; the large one and the scout.

“Huh! We thought you were fake,” the scout said. “Well, okay whatever. You’ve had your fun, Princess. The galra's coming with us.” She motioned to Kolivan to stand.

“You will not get away with this,” Allura said. She didn’t say it in the imperious tones of a wronged princess, or even with defiance, but with utter rage. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips, now slightly swollen, were drawn back from her teeth in a snarl. Her voice came out curdled with fury. She clearly wanted to take them apart herself, and seemed to be physically restraining herself from trying.

She was the most beautiful woman Kolivan had ever seen. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

The big one laughed. “She’s more like a galra than you are,” she told Kolivan, as he remembered what he was supposed to be doing and got to his feet, a bit awkwardly. Again he refused to rise to the bait, regarding her without expression.

“Come on, let’s go.” The scout waved her gun at him while the big one one covered Allura.

They’ve got new orders, Kolivan thought. He glanced over his shoulder at Allura, who had also clambered to her feet, cursing her cloak and her long skirt.

“Move,” the big one said, prodding him with the gun he walked through the doorway as the scout went ahead. He did as he was asked, wondering where they could possibly take him; the ship wasn’t that large.

His question was answered when the scout hit a button on the wall and the external door slid open, filling the ship with the roar of the slipstream. Kolivan narrowed his eyes. There was nothing beyond the doorway but darkness and the rushing wind. It was an efficient way to get rid of him, he'd give them that.

“ _Kolivan!_ ” Allura yelled. The princess was on her feet, and as Kolivan glanced over his shoulder at her she bent forward and charged head first into their larger captor, who was still covering Kolivan with her gun and had for just a moment turned her back on the princess.

It was now or never.

Kolivan had endured a painfully awkward adolescence that had left him with such a thin frame and long limbs that he occasionally got asked to his face if he was truly pure galra, but his unusual proportions weren’t without their benefits. Thus, he jumped, tucking his knees briefly against his chest and swinging his arms forward, still cuffed, but now in front of him, a position from which he launched his fists at the scout’s face.

Even through her mask he could see her look of shock as he turned on her, and she yelped with surprise and twisted aside to avoid his attack. Instantly he dropped and lashed out with his foot, sweeping her off her feet while she was unbalanced and she tumbled to the floor, rolling to regain her feet.

“Quiznak! The prisoners are out! We need help!” she yelled.

“No we don’t.” The big one turned and elbowed Allura as she tried to escape their room and sending her flying down the corridor before trying to get a shot at Kolivan himself. He rolled out of the way as the scout leaped at him. They didn’t want to hurt Allura, but they had nothing holding them back when it came to him, and he ducked and weaved, aware of the muzzle of that rifle, and trying to keep the scout between him and it. The scout kicked him and he caught her calf with his hands and braced himself and threw her, even as she used her other leg to kick his ribs, and they both ended up on the floor.

Kolivan was an easy target down there and even as he desperately tried to regain his feet the big one fired her rifle. The shot went wild, streaking upwards and sending a shower of sparks down from the ceiling as Allura kicked the weapon upwards, not quite hard enough to tear it from the half-galra's grasp. Allura had somehow relieved herself of her cloak, and her hair was starting to fall out of its jewellery as she ducked the retaliatory backhand.

“That’s how you want it, Princess?” They were still reluctant to shoot her, and Kolivan just had to trust Allura would hold her own and keep the big one occupied for a while, as the scout flipped on her hands and launched her feet at his throat. Too late to defend he went with the attack and used his height to batter her sideways, flinging them both to the floor again. He couldn't do much else without freeing his hands. Rather gracelessly he rolled on top of her, ignoring the flurry of blows she landed on his bruised ribs and arms as he patted her down, scrabbling for the control for the handcuffs.

As soon as he found them he was on his feet, stripping the device off his wrists as he turned to help Allura.

She was holding her own, just, the big one under orders not to shoot and not game to hit her with the rifle either. Allura attacked relentlessly, kicking at her opponent, her skirt swirling around her legs and her balance hampered by her bound wrists. Despite clearly putting all she had into it, her fancy dancing slippers weren’t making much of an impact against an armoured spacesuit.

Kolivan realised his outfit wasn't really appropriate attire for a jailbreak either. They’d just have to make the best of it.

“Allura!”

The big one swung her rifle at him but he was expecting it and dived out of the way. He rolled to his feet behind Allura and released her hands from the cuffs with an expert motion, the device clattering to the floor.

“Thanks. You’re incredible,” she breathed before they hurled themselves apart to avoid another swing with the rifle.

The big one went after Kolivan and he knew how her type fought, so he waited until the last moment to slide out of her way, hit her with the side of his hand as he ducked past, and followed up with his feet. He kicked her just above the kidneys and she staggered into the wall, her faceplate rebounding off it with a clunk as she spluttered with rage. These people were well trained, but he was better and more experienced, and frankly was starting to have a good time, his limbs loosening up and his battle instincts stirring.

The scout had vanished and she reappeared behind Allura, pinning her arms to her sides. Allura yelled, in anger rather than pain, and flung herself backwards, knocking her opponent hard against the wall before tossing her head back and slamming it into her masked face.

It was enough to see her free.

Kolivan twisted the big one’s arm, trying to get her to drop the gun. So she picked him up and threw him out the door.

He heard Allura shriek as he caught the edge one-handed. Buffeted by the slipstream he caught a vague impression of distant lights below and stars above before hauled himself back inside to see Allura running to help him and the scout tackling her, although she bounced out of the way when Kolivan aimed his fist at her head as he flung himself at them.

They stood side by side, the open door behind them flinging their hair about, Allura’s skirt rippling around her legs. She matched his fighting stance, her arms raised.

“We can’t beat them,” Kolivan muttered. “We haven't a hope taking over the ship unarmed and outnumbered. We need to get out.”

“We can use the jetpacks,” Allura said. They were where they should be, close to the exits in case of an emergency, but still on the other side of the narrow room, and there were two enemies between them and their goal.

Kolivan risked glancing at her. She looked ready, a grim smile on her face and her eyes alight and focused. You’re enjoying this, he thought.

He couldn’t blame her; now they had a fighting chance, so was he.

“You go left,” he said.

The words had barely left his mouth before she was moving. Kolivan watched her out of the corner of his eye as she struck out at the scout. He leaped on the big one, fists flying. She was probably stronger than he was but he was too fast for her, ducking under her guard and slamming his palm up under the chin of her helmet, his knee going into her midsection. You had to find the weak points on armoured opponents. She was reeling, and he tried again for the rifle, his claws digging into her wrist, pressing hard on the tendons. However strong she was, her grip wouldn't hold.

“All right, that's enough.”

Quiznak! Reinforcements had finally arrived. Kolivan looked over his shoulder and saw the eyeless one and her pet stalking down the corridor, the animal's eyes gleaming. She didn't appear to be armed at least, and if he could just get the rifle-

And then it felt like a warm blanket was being drawn across all his thoughts, which was bad, wasn't it, he wondered as the universe shut itself off. The last thing he could see was that blank, eyeless helmet at the end of a long, constricting tunnel of darkness.

 

~~

Kolivan’s cheek was stinging, although he couldn't remember why. He couldn’t remember anything for a little while, floating in a sea of bewilderment. Eventually he remembered he had eyes and how to open them, and when he did so the light made them hurt for a moment.

“Kolivan!” Allura was leaning over him, and suddenly the aching cheek made a lot more sense as she lowered her hand and used it to cup his face gently instead of slapping it again. He closed his eyes for a moment as he felt her fingers thread gently through his hair. “Are you all right? Say something, please.” She looked genuinely frightened.

He remembered how to speak. “What happened?”

“Oh, thank the Ancients you're back!” She took her hand away and he missed it.

He was lying on the floor and she was kneeling next to him, one of her sleeves torn loose from her arm and flapping around her elbow. They were back in the locked room again, and his heart sank.

“Allura, what happened? _What did I do_?”

“It's not your fault,” she said. “That person with the cat- she did to you what she did to poor Coran and they told you to recapture me. I couldn't get through to you.”

“I'm sorry, Princess.” He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t feel like his brains had been scrambled, he just couldn’t remember anything. In a way that was even more unnerving. “Did I hurt you?” He looked her over anxiously.

She shook her head. “They told you not to and I- I couldn't hurt you either. I was trying to grab a jetpack but even if I had I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Back to square one, he thought.

“They were going to toss you out of the ship,” Allura said, sounding almost offended by the thought.

“Well, it looks like they decided that's too much trouble now,” he said, although he knew it was a temporary reprieve. When they got wherever they were going they'd probably shoot him, and he bunched his fists in frustration. They’d had their chance and blown it.

Allura sighed, her shoulders dropping.

“Oh.” She raised her head. “I just remembered. It might not be much good, but when I was fighting the little one, I managed to get this back.” She reached back over her shoulder and pulled something out of the back of her dress, where she'd hidden it under her hair.

Kolivan's blade.

She held it out to him, and he carefully took it out of her hand, a slow smile stealing across his face. “Princess. You've saved us.”

“I have?” she blinked at him and smiled back, although he could see she wasn't really sure why. But she was willing to take his word for it, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe I am good at this after all.”

“You're excellent,” he said.

She practically glowed with pride. “I've never had to do anything like this before. Not for real. Of course I've had training but it's not the same, and my safety is important, but I always wondered if I have what it takes.”

He thought about the princess offering herself to the Black Lion, despite the odds against being accepted and he fought the sudden urge to lean over and kiss her again. Later, he promised himself. Later, if she'd let him, and he thought he might be prepared to beg.

“You are more than holding your own,” he said instead. “You've done very well.”

“So have you,” she said. “I didn't realise quite how capable you were,” she sounded impressed, but slightly puzzled as well.

Kolivan took a deep breath. They needed to escape as soon as possible, but there were things he had to tell her first, just in case he didn't make it out.

“Princess,” he said. “You should know that the Emperor _was_ lying to you. The Blade of Marmora exists, or it did once, but they bear Altea no ill-will, and would never seek to hurt you.” He got to his feet, still holding the weapon. “I don’t know who these people are, but they are _not_ the Blade.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I am,” he said softly, and he focused on awakening the weapon. It had been years since he’d let it fall dormant, unneeded in his new life, but it responded as it always had, the rune glowing as the luxite assumed its true form, the molecules dancing in a new pattern as the blade thinned, extending itself with lethal grace. When he was done it was nearly as long as his arm, sitting in his hand as perfectly weighted as a bird of prey and just as eager to hunt. When he moved it through the air, the edge almost sang.

Oh, he'd missed it. He felt like he'd regained an amputated limb.

Allura had scrambled to her feet, and she looked from him to the blade and back again, wide-eyed.

“I’ll explain it later,” Kolivan said. “We need to go.”

“You can get us out with that thing?”

“Luxite can punch through almost anything,” Kolivan said. “I’ll wedge the door open, but you’ll have to deal with whoever’s on the other side if they've posted a guard.”

“Got it,” Allura said, frowning in determination. “I’m ready.”

She probably was, he thought. She looked like someone who’d been waiting her whole life for this.

He raised the blade and aimed for the for the lock sealing the two halves of the door shut on the other side. The luxite bit into the more common metals as rapacious as it had always been and eager to serve him. He twisted it, feeling it grind against the guts of the mechanism. He’d hack it out if he had to, but the edge must have finally severed a connection because he felt the lock give way. He put his back into it, levering the jaws of the door apart, the broken lock shedding sparks on his boots, which were by now rather scuffed.

Allura squeezed through the gap as soon as it was wide enough to admit her, ducking under Kolivan's arms and moments later Kolivan forced the door to yield enough that he could follow her, sliding through as the metal edge snagged at the clasps on his coat.

Allura was pulling at the release on one of the jetpacks as Kolivan slid through the door.

They didn’t have the luxury of a surreptitious escape; the severed lock must have triggered an alarm somewhere and their captors were on their way.

“Not again!” the big one snarled, as she and her two comrades—the fourth had to be piloting the ship—pounded down the corridor. She couldn't fire her rifle because Allura was in the way, yanking a jetpack off the wall.

Kolivan crouched down, blade ready, braced to take on all three of them when Allura fired up the jetpack in her arms, jamming it on and letting the device tear itself from her grasp and rocket down the hallway, sending their opponents leaping out of the way as it ricocheted wildly down the corridor.

“Yeah!” Allura looked delighted, and so she should be, but they didn't have time to celebrate.

Kolivan pulled a jetpack off the wall and slung it over his back before throwing his blade at the emergency exit button, the exterior door slamming open again.

Allura was reaching for another jetpack as the half-galra pounded down the corridor towards them, the first jetpack still buzzing feebly against the bulkhead.

“No time for that,” Kolivan said, tightening the strap across his body and scooping her up off her feet, one arm around her back, the other under her knees. She stiffened in surprise for a moment. “Grab the blade,” he said.

She didn't argue, wrapping one arm around his neck as he bounded for the door, yanking his blade free with her other hand as he unhesitatingly leaped out into the night.

Allura gasped but didn't scream as they went into free-fall, her hair streaming up past his head as she buried her face in his shoulder, her eyes screwed shut against the wind. He tightened his grip on her, his eyes slitted against the updraught as he tried to to get their bearings. He could see the lake off to the left, and the city and the palace glowing beyond it. They hadn't gone as far as he'd feared.

The lake was ringed by small towns and he aimed for the nearest cluster of lights. Unable to tell exactly how far they were from the ground he fired the jetpack, arresting their fall somewhat.

“The ship's coming around!” Allura yelled into his ear. Their captors hadn't given up.

She had both arms around his neck now, his blade clasped against his back as she looked over his shoulder behind them.

He didn't try to talk, merely nodded to let her know he understood. The cluster of lights resolved itself into several dozen buildings and a couple of long piers stretching out into the lake. Kolivan had no idea what time it was, and the number of people milling about under the stars told him nothing; Altea had a lively nightlife.

Kolivan aimed for the most populated area he could see at a moment's notice; some sort of open-air club festooned with multicoloured lights, the air above it throbbing with music.

It was quite an entrance. As soon as the after-burner from his jetpack was spotted alteans turned and cheered as they landed, the crowd making space for them and there was a round of applause.

“Now _that's_ an entrance!” someone called, as Kolivan landed in the middle of the dance floor, Allura still in his arms.

“Is that the princess?” someone else asked, as Kolivan set her down. She handed him his blade, her face quite flushed and strands of hair drifting around her.

“Everyone needs to get inside!” Allura called, even as her eyes lingered on his face for a moment. “It's not safe.”

Kolivan looked to the sky. The ship had its landing lights off, but he could hear it approaching regardless, even over the sound of the music. If nothing else, their enemies would have no qualms about taking more hostages to make the princess behave.

“We've got to get out of here,” he said. “Lead them away from civilians.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Allura said. “Your princess needs a fast vehicle!” she demanded. “Anyone?”

“Take mine!” an altean girl called, tossing Allura the keycard.

“Thank you! You will be compensated if we crash it!” Allura said, as the girl pointed to a red ground-skimmer parked alongside several others on the side of the road.

“I trust you're not really planning on crashing,” Kolivan said, as Allura ran to it, the crowd rather reluctantly hustling inside, even as people gazed after them.

She laughed, actually laughed, as she leaped astride the vehicle and it hummed to life as she inserted the keycard. “I hope not.”

Kolivan climbed on behind her. He was tall enough that he could reach over her head to grab the handlebars if he wanted to, but she was driving and he wasn't going to backseat steer. So he placed his hands on her hips instead.

And then wrapped his arms around her waist as they lurched forward, the skimmer rising off the ground.

“This one's got some power!” Allura said happily.

Kolivan didn't get a chance to ask where they were going before it felt like they were halfway there as the princess opened the taps on the skimmer and they shot down the road, further into the town.

Allura leaned on the horn as they zipped around corners and down side-streets, making revellers leap back off the road to get out of their way, curses and cheers hurled in their wake. Kolivan craned his neck but he couldn't see the ship beyond the lights of the buildings around them. They could be anywhere.

Kolivan counter-leaned as Allura swerved around another vehicle, the skimmer tilting as it mounted the curb for a moment. Somehow they made it through an intersection unscathed and rocketed down a street lined with small restaurants.

Kolivan remembered he hadn't had any dinner, and regretted not eating more at the ball when he'd had the chance.

“Quiznak!” Kolivan was flung forward against Allura's back as she stepped on the brakes. Before them was the lake, the distant lights of the city on the other side mirrored in its dark, still water, and before them large numbers of alteans enjoyed the evening, strolling along the pier or dining at open-air tables. Out on the water, boats rocked on the gentle swell, lights glowing.

“Hang on,” Allura said, in a tone of voice that made Kolivan wish he was wearing a helmet. The skimmer's engine roared and they zoomed across the road, people vacating their tables with alarm when they saw them coming. Kolivan was braced for impact when Allura hit the boost and they soared up into the air, sailing over the heads of the diners and over the railing that separated the waterfront from the lake.

They landed with a splash, the engine kicking up a huge plume of water in their wake that would really have got the people behind them moving, Kolivan thought with amusement. Allura headed for open water, sending great arcs of spray over the boats as she swerved to avoid them.

The smell of fresh water rose from the lake, and the spray dampened their fine clothes as they headed towards the lights of the city, the skimmer inscribing a white scar of foam across the still, dark surface. The slipstream tugged Kolivan's braid and battered Allura's skirt against his legs, her own clamped firmly astride the skimmer. The night air was chill, in contrast to the heat of her body and the engine beneath them. Allura shivered and Kolivan tightened his grip on her, hunching slightly over her shoulders. Her dress wouldn't be doing much to keep her warm, although frankly he couldn't do much either.

He glanced down at her, and she met his eyes for a moment and grinned.

“Thank you!” she called over the roar of the spray.

“How are you still single?” he muttered.

She can't have heard him, surely, but nevertheless her eyelids fluttered for a moment and she very deliberately pressed herself back against him, her rolling her head back against his shoulder, displaying the lovely line of her throat.

Kolivan felt like his breath had been punched out of him. It was like she'd peeled back the layers to reveal an earlier, younger, version of himself who didn't know how to respond to an altean princess practically wriggling into his lap. Rysse would be so disappointed in him.

To distract himself Kolivan turned his attention to the crowded sky. There were still many ships hovering above the city, and Kolivan examined them until his eyes ached, trying to work out if their pursuers were among them.

The city was growing closer, and once again Allura had to steer them around various watercraft and amphibious spaceships at anchor.

“I think we’ve lost them! Security’s probably too tight around the city for them to risk-” Allura twisted the skimmer to the side as the sky was suddenly eclipsed by a dark shape as the ship dropped down on top of them, the half-galra hanging out of the open doorway, the shots from their rifles kicking up spurts of water; they were going wide, aiming for the skimmer’s stabilisers rather than the fugitives themselves. All they had to do was hit one and the skimmer would spin helplessly in circles, if it didn't outright sink.

Kolivan released Allura and fired his jetpack, launching himself up at them, his blade singing as it sliced through the scout’s rifle. His aggressive manoeuvre had taken them by surprise. He cracked his knee against the big one’s faceplate, and suspected his knee came off second-best. He wished he was wearing something a bit more protective. He didn’t stay to fight, flipping himself up over the doorway and dashing across the top of the spacecraft. All he’d wanted to do was distract them for a few moments and Allura, anticipating him with the instincts of a true warrior, was already steering the skimmer around to meet him on the other side.

He had to use the jetpack to keep up with her, diving off the side as the ship started to swing around and firing the jetpack for a moment so he didn’t land too heavily and destabilise the skimmer. It was doing well, but they weren’t really designed to go over water.

“I don’t think this jetpack’s got much power left,” Kolivan said, taking his place behind Allura again. It was only supposed to be used in an emergency, after all, and not to take anyone long distances.

“They can’t chase us into the city,” Allura said, and aimed for the river.

Kolivan could hear the roar of traffic on top of the first bridge as they passed under it, carving up the reflected lights, the spray sparkling around them. The ship followed, to Kolivan’s consternation.

He was rather impressed by their tenacity. The half-galra were clambering onto the roof, and Kolivan half expected to get a laser blast to the back.

“We can’t outrun them on this thing,” he said as Allura weaved back and forth, trying to make them a harder target.

The river switch-backed through the city, the banks lined with expensive residences and public buildings and beautifully cultivated parklands. None of which gave many openings for them to escape from; the bridges were too high to escape onto, even with the skimmer’s boost, which barely worked on water, Allura told him.

Allura looked up at him, her eyes frightened. “We can’t hide on the river either. Where are our drones? What do we do?”

“I think we’re going to have to crash,” Kolivan said. “That will bring the drones in.”

Allura nodded. Oh, what had he done to earn this trust?

They swung around one of the river’s tighter bends and as the enemy ship came in behind them Allura jammed the skimmer into reverse as Kolivan fired his jetpack for the last time, hauling them both out of the way with Allura in his arms again, the device spluttering on its last bit of charge.

He heard the skimmer crumple against the nose of the spaceship before its fuel tanks ruptured, and then the backwash of heat moments later, the glare of igniting fuel lighting up the nearby buildings. Kolivan didn't twist back to look, focusing on keeping their trajectory as smooth and stable as he could.

They sailed over a well-lit footpath, thankfully empty, and into some parklands. Kolivan wrapped his arm over Allura’s head to shield her as they crashed through pungent altean greenery, large leaves tearing around them, stems snapping as they shot through. Kolivan twisted as they finally fell to earth, taking the brunt of their fall. The jetpack cracked under their combined weight and Kolivan rolled them so he could hit the quick release, tearing it off and tossing it, shielding Allura with his body. Luckily it didn’t explode and simply went dead on the grass, and he relaxed.

He gazed up, craning his neck as a squad of altean drones buzzed across the sky above them to see what all the noise was about. “We just need to hide until they’ve seen them off,” he said.

Kolivan felt Allura’s hand brush his cheek and he looked down at her. She was still catching her breath, her hair spread out on the grass around her, her jewellery sparkling at her ears and throat, her eyes dark. She didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable stretched out beneath him.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She just had to look at him, her hand small and warm against his cheek, and he crumpled, fell, ceased fighting a force that felt as unrelenting and universal as gravity itself, and dipped his head to press his mouth to hers. Her lips parted as she angled her head up to meet him, her arms snaking around his neck.

He was going to be gentle, but she didn’t want comfort any more. They were safe, more than safe they were free, and she met his gentle kiss with something much less sweet and much more demanding.

He felt her wind his braid around one of her hands and then she pulled him closer with it, hard enough for the suggestion of pain, her teeth at his lips, the embroidery on her bodice snagging against the buckles on his coat. He growled and bit at her lightly, and she bit back harder, teeth bared, breath hot.

He tangled his hands in her hair and smeared the kiss across her cheek, not content to own her mouth but wanting more of her. All of her. Her perfume had faded, worn away by effort and time and the backwash of their lake crossing but he found traces of it under her jaw, behind her ear as he kissed and nipped at her, following his own instincts rather than professional experience, and she sighed and gasped, turned her head to nuzzle his ear, scrape her teeth across his cheek blindly, like she would devour all of him if she could.

She breathed his name, and he could barely gather his wits to reply with more than a groan.

“You were so good out there,” she said. “Please,” she breathed in his ear.

“Anything,” he muttered, and meant it.

She hooked a bare leg up over his hip, her skirt falling away, and she ground herself up against him, her back arching in unmistakable invitation and her legs falling open. He drew back in surprise and she watched him through half-closed eyes, a smirk on her reddened lips.

Kolivan glanced around, but they seemed well-hidden at least, a screen of trees and bushes between them and the footpath.

“Are you sure?” he asked. His cock was hardening in its sheath; another nudge like that one and it would slide out. “ _Here?_ ”

“We’ll be quick,” she said, and the way she said it, her voice low and breathless, suggested she was probably telling the truth. “Kolivan.” She tugged on his braid again. “I don’t want to _wait,”_ she said fiercely, almost pouting.

“As you wish, Princess.” Fuck it. He didn’t think he’d be able to resist even if they were still being actively hunted, and even if he wasn’t contractually bound to pleasure her whenever she wanted it. He caught the leather of his glove between his teeth and yanked it off his hand, a brutal unfairness to such a fine garment compounded by the insult of being tossed aside, almost immediately joined by its mate.

Finally he got to touch her with his bare hands. Alteans had such smooth, warm skin, and hers was so dark and lustrous. He slid his hand up the outside of her leg, curling over over her to kiss her again, as he rucked her skirt up around her hips, scraping his claws lightly up her thigh, raising goosebumps. She hooked her other leg around him and squeezed his waist with her thighs, her bare knees digging into him just below his ribs. He took that as an invitation to palm her arse, pushing aside her underwear, and she didn’t seem to mind at all.

She was so warm; the burning heart of his universe, everything else—the ground, the night air, his damp clothes, was chill by comparison.

When his fingers found the real heat, the sweet slickness between her legs, she shuddered against him and moaned softly, rolling her head back, baring her throat. Her sex grabbed at his fingers, trying to pull them in, to his mild surprise. Alteans usually needed coaxing before they opened up like this.

“So eager,” he breathed.

She looked away then, whimpering and flinging an arm across her face. Shy? Now? He smiled and kissed her arm until she moved it and met his eyes.

“I’m honoured,” he said.

“I hope you’re getting on with it-ah!” He moved his fingers a little, curling them carefully inside her and she writhed, tugging at his braid again, her hips stuttering.

He had to use a bit of force to free his hand. He sat back on his heels, the elegant cut of his trousers completely ruined by his cock, which had extended itself as far as it could within the confines of his clothes. He watched her watching him as he started on the buckle of his coat. He wasn’t going to undo them all, just enough to get at his trousers.

Allura propped herself up on her elbows, clearly fascinated, and after getting past his coat and unbuckling his belt Kolivan slowed his hands. He knew how to make a show of this, and it was quite gratifying the way she bit her lip when she saw the line of his cock pressed against his trousers. He ran his finger along it, teasing, before pulling it free with a sigh of relief as it slid out the last couple of inches, long and purple and slick. He ran his hand under it, lifting it so she could see the device embedded just below the flared head. It was possible to get purely internal ones, but in his line of work it was an advantage to have visual proof he wasn’t going to give her anything but a good time.

The night air felt cold on his taut, overheated skin, his cock jabbing the air impatiently.

“Alright?” he asked, when she managed to look away from it and meet his eyes.

“Yes,” she said, a bit breathlessly. He grinned at her and crawled over her again, kissing and nipping at her neck, his hand gliding over her bare shoulders and down across her chest. Her breasts were still confined within her sparkling dress but she arched forward into his touch anyway. He braced himself on his other arm, feeling his way through her skirts, listening to her uneven breathing, his own heart knocking painfully in his chest.

He pushed aside layers of cloth, his cock butting eagerly against his palm as he guided it through. It felt like an adolescent fuck; awkward and impatient and eager. She bit her lip as he pushed her underwear aside, holding her breath until he told her not to. He watched her face as she pulled him inside her, almost helplessly given the way she trembled, and her fingers fluttered against his coat.

She didn’t let him pull away or stop until his hips were pressed flush against hers, or as much as was possible with their clothes in the way. She gripped his cock tightly, a deliberate squeeze that had him gritting his teeth.

“Big,” she panted. He let her get used to it, but he couldn’t fuck her like an altean would have. He could do better, if she’d let him.

“Let me go,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

He felt her relax around him slightly, and he moved his hips, pulling back and driving himself into her again, slow to start with. Her jaw dropped and her eyelids fluttered, and he felt her grab onto him again, or start to, before she held herself back.

“What is that?” she gasped.

Kolivan showed her his teeth. “That’s how galra do it. You like it?”

“Oh. Yes.” She nodded, and he did it again, and this time her hips came up to meet him. Alteans fucked each other like statues, but they caught on to alternative styles pretty quickly, and Allura was no exception in this, even if she was an exception to so many things.

She clutched at his coat, making soft desperate sounds, and he swallowed them as best he could, breathing harshly through his nose, the scent of her perfume, the scent of _her_ , mixing with that of the grass beneath them.

They were both fully dressed, exquisitely dressed even, and he appreciated the contrast of their clothes and the position they were in. An observer would be in no doubt as to what they were doing. He wasn’t sure he liked the danger of being caught like this, but he thought Allura might; she was urging him on, her legs snug around his waist, mindlessly chasing her own pleasure with a delightfully shameless greed that he couldn’t help but indulge. He gave her what she wanted as hard as she wanted it, which was harder than he’d expected, and fought off the desire to come until she tore her mouth from his and begged him to do so.

“Please please please,” she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut, her body trembling beneath his. He was going to fuck her through it, watch her come apart, when she opened her eyes. “Kolivan.”

She sounded affectionate of all things, as well as desperate, and Kolivan didn’t think he had a kink for romance but to his surprise he found himself losing control, his hips jerking and he bared his teeth and swore as she squeezed his cock, her body locking up beneath him as she moaned in his ear.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he came, powerless to stop. She was holding him hard enough to hurt, trembling, quiet now until her breath burst from her with a gasp, like she’d surfaced from a deep dive. She relaxed in stages, her lips parting, her fingers unclenching from his coat, her legs releasing him, her gaze slowly refocusing as she came back to reality.

He disentangled himself as soon as he was able to, gently, his pulse still thudding through his body.

He would have held her if she'd wanted him to, but she wasn't even looking at him directly. Allura looked a bit preoccupied, sitting up and smoothing down her dress before touching her hair and frowning.

“What a mess,” she said finally, and took a deep breath. “Fun though,” she added, with a little smile that was entirely for herself, not for him. “This whole night has been fun.”

“It’s not over yet,” Kolivan pointed out, wondering if she was having belated second thoughts. If she was she was keeping them to herself for now.

She winced as she pulled her jewellery from her hair while Kolivan straightened his clothes and made himself decent again. They both looked slightly worse for wear, and Allura’s hairstyle was starting to disintegrate.

“I could,” he paused, wondering if it would sound presumptuous. “I could rebraid your hair if you like. I can’t promise it will be as good as it was.”

She looked at him for a long moment, considering, and then nodded, holding the jewelled net in her lap as he sat down cross-legged behind her. He combed her hair with his claws, trying to salvage what he could of the original style. Her hair was finer than his, softer, and it flowed through his hands like silk.

“Tell me about the Blade of Marmora,” Allura said quietly.

“It's a secret,” Kolivan said. “It worries me that Lotor knows that name.” Left over right he wove her strands of hair around each other. She waited for him to go on, not moving. “Remember when I said the galra are not a monolith? Some of us were well aware of the consequences of Emperor Zarkon's research. The data was clear and the earthquakes couldn't be ignored; if Zarkon didn't cease his work on the rift, Daibazaal was in grave danger. He'd been warned many times; even King Alfor himself was said to have warned him. Well, I expect you know about that.”

“Not the details,” Allura said. “But I know enough.”

“The Blade of Marmora is—was a conspiracy. A group of galra officers decided that for the good of the galra as a whole, for our very planet, the Emperor had to be stopped at any cost, by any means.”

“You were going to assassinate him.” She caught on immediately.

“Not an easy thing to think, and even more difficult to do,” Kolivan said. “Security around the rift was immensely tight. As it turned out our plan did not succeed, and the would-be assassin was captured.”

“You?” she asked softly.

“They didn't realise my true purpose. For most galra, to assassinate the Emperor would be an unthinkable act, and so they assumed I was there for my own financial gain, to steal secrets of quintessence and sell them on the black market. I didn't correct their assumption, and thus I was spared execution and sentenced to exile instead. The rest of the Blade could still learn from my mistakes and try again, I thought.”

“Did they?”

“They didn't get the chance; it was too late. A plan like that takes time to pull together, and when Honerva took ill we thoughtthe madness might end. It did, but not in the way that we'd hoped.”

“So the Blade would have no reason to kidnap me.”

“The Blade no longer has a reason to exist.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching up and touching her hair, running her fingers along the braids before draping the metalwork over it again and holding her hair up so he could fasten it. “I believe you, Kolivan. But if they weren't the Blade, who do you think our kidnappers were?”

Kolivan shifted to sit next to her. “If I was forced to guess, I'd say they belonged to Emperor Lotor,” he said.

Allura frowned. “That's quite an accusation. He may have just been mistaken about the identity of the kidnappers.”

“I don't accuse my emperor lightly. Remember when we were on the ship, and the skinny one opened the door and said she thought we were fake? How would she know that?”

Allura looked at him, catching on at once. “Only Lotor saw us together at the ball.”

Kolivan nodded. “They must have contacted him for instructions as to what to do about me once they'd taken off.”

“But why would he warn me about a kidnapping that he organised in the first place?”

“Maybe he thought you weren't enthusiastic enough about marrying him.” Kolivan shrugged. “Someone like him will have a plan. Embedding himself in a rescue effort will go a long way to making your father and the other paladins trust him, as well as potentially giving him access to your security protocols. He can feed you whatever information he likes about the Blade of Marmora; there are no end of ways in which this situation could advantage him. Even your escape wouldn't ruin things entirely. He can still join in the hunt for your kidnappers.”

Allura got to her feet. “Then we have to stop him!” She frowned. “But we can't accuse him of anything because we don't have any proof. Do we?” she asked him, almost imploring.

Kolivan shook his head. “We'll need to think of some other way.”

 

~~

The cafe was tucked away in a narrow street overshadowed by the walls surrounding the palace and despite the late hour a dimly lit sign above the door indicated it was still open, although the young altean behind the counter looked distinctly annoyed when Kolivan opened it. He hid his lack of enthusiasm behind a professional smile and a cheerful good evening, that died away in alarm when the galra loomed in his doorway.

Kolivan stepped aside and ushered Allura in swiftly, before the barista did something stupid like summon security. The streets were swarming with drones; the hunt for the princess was on in earnest, and they'd crossed the city dashing between hiding places when the coast was clear. It wouldn't do to be found too early.

“Good evening,” Allura said, crossing the room to the counter and gazing up at the menu. The altean gaped and nearly fell off his chair as he stood up to take her order.

“Your Highness! This is such an honour,” he said, his voice cracking. He appeared to forget Kolivan was there until he gave his order. They didn't have a wide selection of food here, but Kolivan didn't care; he was famished. The special would do. Large, please. And a hot drink. Also large.

“I'll have what he's having,” Allura said, abandoning the menu.

They slid into a booth next to the window, and Allura sighed happily to be off her feet at last. She met Kolivan's eyes for a moment then looked out at the street.

“I hope we get fed before they find us,” she said. “Do you think this is going to work?” she asked, jumping slightly as a ship roared overhead, too fast to be identified.

“I don't see why not. We can't call him a liar without causing a diplomatic incident, but he can't accuse us of lying either.”

“He'll know we're lying though.” She bit her lip. “What is this going to do to the talks?”

“Princess.” He waited for her to look at him, and he tried to sound reassuring. “One thing at a time. You're doing fine. Your father will have some ideas. We don't have to do everything alone.”

She took a deep breath. “You're right. Oh, that smells good.”

They both turned to look to the counter and barista nearly dropped their cups. Kolivan was amused, and he put an elbow on the table and settled in to watch.

“You're putting him off,” Allura said, leaning over and prodding his arm.

“Exactly. It's the test of his career. If he can cook with us watching he'll never lack for confidence again.”

“I'd rather he serve us fast.”

Kolivan relented and turned back to her. Her hand was still resting on the table and on impulse he reached out and touched it. He hadn't put his gloves back on; they were in one of the pockets of his coat. She didn't pull her hand away, but she didn't smile.

Tired and hungry, they didn't have anything to say to each other and although the silence wasn't awkward it wasn't entirely comfortable either. Allura was using her training and keeping her feelings to herself, and Kolivan didn't blame her. He was doing the exact same thing, after all.

When their food was served they fell upon it ravenously, barely looking up until an altean drone halted outside the window, its optics glowing briefly before it stomped inside.

“Princess Allura,” it intoned. “Please return to the palace.”

Allura blinked up at it innocently. “What's this all about?”

A whole squad of drones joined them as they left the cafe, having gulped down the last of their drinks and paid, and although Kolivan knew they were there to protect them he felt like he was being taken prisoner all over again as they were marched into the palace.

“Allura!”

The ballroom was empty, save for security drones, King Alfor, Coran, and Emperor Lotor. The three men stood surrounded by the detritus of the ball; empty chairs and tables littered with dirty glasses and plates.

“Here we go,” Allura muttered as they were escorted through the doors.

“I'm right behind you,” Kolivan said, and she flashed him a smile before turning to her father, who was hurrying across the floor to greet her.

“What's going on?” Allura asked, looking suitably puzzled as he swept her into his arms. “Father, what happened to the party?”

Kolivan was watching Lotor watch Allura. “We were worried, Princess,” the Emperor said. “When you disappeared so suddenly. Especially after the information I had received earlier. I'm very glad you're alright.”

“The Emperor was convinced you'd been kidnapped,” King Alfor said. “Have them all off the search,” he said to Coran, who nodded and turned away to start talking into a communicator.

“I'm fine, Father,” Allura said. “As you can see.”

“Where were you?” Alfor asked, still regarding her with concern.

“We were in a cafe,” Allura said, glancing at Kolivan. “I suppose we forgot the time.” She didn't sound all that convincing. “The ball was-”

“It was my fault,” Kolivan said. “I suggested we go for a walk. I haven't seen this city before.”

It sounded like a weak excuse even to his own ears, and King Alfor raised an eyebrow.

Kolivan coughed slightly and stared straight ahead, and Allura focused on a spot on the floor, both refusing to budge from their fairly flimsy story.

“We're very sorry to have worried everyone,” Allura offered eventually, as King Alfor eyed them off, his eyes lingering on Allura's altered hairstyle and the tear in her sleeve.

“Well,” he said, apparently at a loss for words. “I think perhaps we need to-” He frowned at Kolivan and the facade cracked a little. “Allura, _really_?”

“I should be going,” Lotor said. He looked from Allura to Kolivan and back again, his eyes narrowed, and then he smiled faintly. “I'm so glad you're safe, Princess. Good night, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he dipped his head to both royals, and glanced at Kolivan. Kolivan didn't move. He had no intention of showing respect when he felt none. Lotor didn't seem surprised, and the look in his eyes suggested that while he was content to retreat for now he certainly wasn't defeated, and he wouldn't underestimate Kolivan again.

Everyone was silent as the Emperor walked away, his little cloak flapping behind him. As soon as the door shut behind him Allura turned to her father before he could start tearing a strip off either of them.

“I _was_ kidnapped,” she declared. “And we think the Emperor was behind it. Which is why we went through this ridiculous act.”

Coran had been politely removing himself from the immediate vicinity in expectation of a parental dressing-down but at her words the spymaster rejoined the conversation, tugging on his moustache thoughtfully.

“Are you sure the Emperor was involved, Princess?”

“What happened?” Alfor asked, looking her over again, this time with alarm rather than disapproval.

Allura glanced at Kolivan and he relieved her of having to go over it all herself. He clasped his hands behind his back and gave as succinct and detailed a report as possible, glad King Alfor was no longer looking at him with quite the same level of dislike. He told Alfor almost everything, save for the details of his own past. Deducing that Lotor was involved obliged him to explain both Allura's original plan and how they'd been discovered on board the kidnapper's ship. To Alfor's credit he kept his opinion on that to himself, for now at least.

Coran nodded thoughtfully once Kolivan fell silent, but didn't say anything.

“You sound like a military man, Kolivan,” Alfor said.

“I was once, Your Majesty.”

“Then I'm glad of it. I cannot thank you enough for protecting my daughter.”

“It was mutual, Your Majesty. Princess Allura more than held her own. She saved us both several times.”

He didn't have to look at Allura directly to see she was practically glowing with pride at his words, her exhausted posture straightening.

“I see.” The King looked torn between pride and concern. He glanced glanced at Coran, who immediately understood.

“I'll get cracking Your Majesty, and have this investigated immediately. Whether or not the Emperor was involved, this has been a terrible breach of security. I suppose the kidnappers are long gone, but we might be able to track them.” He hurried off, talking animatedly into his communicator.

“Then get some sleep!” Alfor called after him. He turned back to them. “We all need to rest. The talks will begin tomorrow morning regardless. Allura, I regret I'll be unable to-”

“I'm fine, Father.” Allura said. “I'm perfectly safe now. I was probably perfectly safe the whole time; I don't think the Emperor cared to harm me.” She glanced at Kolivan. “Regardless, it's over now.”

Alfor looked at her for a long moment but didn't argue.

“Would you remain planetside for a while longer?” he asked Kolivan. “Coran will want to confirm details with you when you're rested.”

“I'm entirely at your disposal, Your Majesty.” Kolivan bowed. He knew a dismissal when he heard one, and he took his leave as father and daughter embraced again; the words that passed between them not for his ears.

He waited for Allura outside the ballroom. He hadn't been dismissed by her after all, and although it wasn't his place to demand anything of her, he hoped she might desire his company for a little longer.

She didn't say anything when she emerged, instead slipping her hand into his. He let her lead him although she didn't pull, didn't demand. He could tell the night was starting to catch up with her as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other, her gaze fixed on the floor.

She led him to what were clearly her quarters, richly decorated and spacious. She dropped his hand and just stood there for a few moments, staring blankly.

“I should,” she began, sounding utterly exhausted. She gestured vaguely at her dress. “I'm just a bit, well.” He could see her hands starting to shake. It was all sinking in now, and he remembered what it it had felt like to be in combat for the first time. No matter how much you think you're looking forward to it, no matter how much you might enjoy it at the time, the comedown is brutal.

“Let me take care of it,” he said gently, and she nodded.

“Thank you.”

He reached over and started with her hair, taking off the jewellery, undoing his earlier braids, and she sighed and leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest, her hands pressed to his sides.

She didn't move when he started on the clasps at the back of her dress, letting it split down her spine, and when he was done she lowered her hands so she could shrug herself out of it, the gleaming fabric sliding down her arms and over her hips to pool at her feet in a sparkling heap.

Under other circumstances it would have been a performance, a seduction, but tonight it was simply exhaustion. She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her. He could tell she was at the end of her endurance.

“You need to-” he began.

“I know, I know.” She squeezed him tighter. “I have you all night, right? Stay here, please.”

“Of course,” he said. He'd half-expected to be sent away, and it was a relief to know he wouldn't be. He didn't want to leave her like this, alone in these vast rooms.

With a sigh she stumbled away, kicking off her slippers and taking out her earrings before disappearing into the bathroom. Kolivan sat down and took off his boots before taking out his blade and staring at it. He'd forced it back into dormancy before they'd returned to the palace, but it wouldn't be so easy to shove the rest of this mess aside. He'd made an enemy of the Emperor, for the second time in his life, and he wondered if he was under some sort of curse. He didn't think it was possible to go back to the way things were, but what was he to do next?

He was still pondering his next move when Allura re-emerged much sooner than he'd expected, wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and her hair in a loose plait.

“All yours,” she said. “I'm afraid I don't have any clothes you can change into,” she added, not quite meeting his eyes.

Kolivan nodded. He didn't mind.

He did mind the fact that he was about a foot too tall for the shower, and he was obliged to bend down to get his head wet, but he was well used to navigating strange bathrooms, and the hot water was a balm on his various bruises and his tired and aching muscles. Training at home was all very well, but it was no substitute for real combat. He felt creaky and exhausted, and rather relieved the princess didn't seem to be keeping him around for sex right at this moment.

In fact, Allura was tucked up in her large, somewhat overdecorated bed when he emerged and appeared to be asleep, although the blankets on one side were flipped back in what Kolivan assumed was invitation or permission.

Good enough. He crawled into bed, and Allura stirred slightly, slitting her eyes open and commanding the lights to dim before curling up against Kolivan's side.

He draped an arm over her, surprised that his hand met bare skin when he touched her back, but too tired to try and read anything particular into it. He didn't remember falling asleep.

 

~~

To Kolivan there was nothing strange about a strange bed. He was at work before he was fully awake, mentally prepared to don whatever role was required for him before he'd opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

And remembered where he was.

Allura was sitting up, the blankets bunched up around her middle, and Kolivan traced the delicate pink lines that fluted down the smooth dark skin of her back with his eyes. His fingers twitched to touch them.

He was off the clock now, technically, as diffuse sunlight made the crystalline ceiling glow warmly and crept in around the edges of the heavy drapes drawn across the window. It was strange to awaken to fresh air and vague sounds of the city stirring beyond the window. Kolivan's own windows weren't designed to open in case of breach in the ring's artificial atmosphere.

“You probably get this a lot,” Allura said, and he wondered how she knew he was awake. “And you're probably not supposed to answer honestly, but I'm ordering you.” Her braid swung slightly as she moved her head as if to look at him and then thought better of it and returned her gaze to the opposite wall. “How much of it was real? Last night.”

She sounded entirely self-possessed, but he wasn't fooled.

“You're wrong. No one ever asks me that,” Kolivan said. “My job is to be unreal. My clients pay so they owe me nothing else, so they can walk away without responsibility or entanglements. That was why you originally hired me, was it not? No political consequences for your choice.”

He sighed and sat up, gazing at the back of her head, but she didn't respond. He supposed at the very least she'd let him down gently. Fine then. “To answer your question; all of it, since the moment we were kidnapped. An act hardly seemed appropriate given the reality of our circumstances.”

She turned then, startled, her gaze sweeping across his face, looking for signs of deceit. He regarded her calmly.

“All of it? Even, you know.” She looked away, shrugging awkwardly.

Kolivan was both surprised and amused she seemed to think sex with her was some sort of hardship. “Why are you so surprised? You owe me nothing, Allura. Not even a response, if it doesn't please you. We may yet have to work together, and I wouldn't presume-”

“Will you shut up?” She scowled and flushed at the same time. “Sorry. Can we talk about something else for a while?”

“Yes.” It was a relief to move on. “The things I didn't tell your father last night, about the Blade of Marmora, I appreciate you keeping my confidence, but I think he might need to know.”

“You're going to tell him you tried to kill Zarkon?”

“The Emperor will be combing over every inch of my past. It's possible that he will realise what I was truly attempting to do when I was arrested. The least I can do is give King Alfor the full story, so Lotor won't be able to use the truth as a weapon. I don't know what else he'll find; I can only cope my co-conspirators have covered their tracks well. But perhaps most importantly, if things get worse, the Blade might be needed again.” He wasn't sure how he felt about that, and Allura could probably read his ambivalence clearly.

“You'd do that for us?” Allura asked.

“Not just for you. For the galra as well. For peace, if such a thing is possible. I hope we won't be needed, that it won't come to that. Perhaps Lotor's games are just that; games.”

“But we can't take that chance,” Allura said. “Thank you. Thank you for your trust in us.” She bit her lip, frowning.

“What is it, Princess?”

She took a deep breath. “You're trusting us, and I think I want to return the favour. Kolivan, I want you to meet the Black Lion.”

“Me? King Alfor-”

“Would probably not approve.” She smiled wryly. “But I have a feeling about you. We need a Black Paladin, someone who is experienced in battle.” She reached out and took his hand. “Someone who's proven themselves trustworthy. This isn't an order, Kolivan. I'm asking.”

She spoke with so much conviction he realised he was actually worried the Black Lion _would_ accept him, as ludicrous as the notion was. She started to pull her hand away and he caught it before she could let go.

“I'll go,” he said. “If you're wrong, no harm done, and if you're right, well, we'll see what happens.”

“You'll be great, I know you will.” She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling and warm. She twisted around to face him, and he managed to keep his eyes on her face as she brought her free hand up to brush her fingers across his scarred cheek. “You _are_ great,” she corrected herself. “Black Lion or not.”

She leaned up and kissed him, a light, hesitant brush of her lip against his, and it took everything he had not to react, not just yet. He let her hover just out of reach, her hand splayed on his chest to steady herself, her eyes searching his.

“Allura, King Alfor would probably not approve of this,” he warned her. “I'm not on the clock right now, either. I get to make demands too, and if you don't mean it.” He stopped himself, unable to really accept that she _could_ be looking at him with such apprehensive tenderness.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, but he doesn't get to decide these things. I do. Besides,” she smiled faintly. “You're still a galra, right? He can't complain. Kolivan, I like you. It could have been the worst night of my life and you made it the best,” she said, and he thought she probably meant it, as much as someone of her age and life experience could.

It was a worse idea than piloting the Black Lion, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but cup her face and pull her into his lap. They fell back against the pillows, Allura giggling on top of him and running her hands across his fur. The future loomed large and complicated, the Black Lion casting a long shadow, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt so hopeful and filled with purpose. For however long fate had granted him he would stay by her side, and defend however he could the peace they both held dear.

 


End file.
